Bonds of the Sea
by Withershins
Summary: A mysterious new threat has surfaced on the Grand Line, snatching young men and women from their homes. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to his nakama, Sanji's past is quickly catching up with him and a debt must soon be repaid. Eventual ZoSan.
1. Case Ridge

Chapter 1

_Case Ridge_

* * *

_"I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide_

_Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;"_

_-John Masefield_

Perched unassumingly along a stretch of towering coastline cliffs, the small town of Case Ridge was happily bustling with life. Street vendors were noisily proclaiming their wares, each trying to be louder than the last; children were laughing and chasing each other with carefree abandon as their mothers gossiped and tried half-heartedly to restrain their rambunctious play; young, teenage girls were giggling and casting coy glances beneath their lashes at the young, teenage boys who were clumsily flirting with them. And, at a certain tavern situated right in the middle of Third Street, a girl was slowly and methodically wiping the large front windows that looked out onto the busy street in front.

She was a young girl, probably not yet into her teens, and pretty in an uninteresting way that easily was lost in a crowd. Quiet brown hair tickled her shoulders as she worked, and the soft features of her face framed a pair of quiet, troubled brown eyes.

Behind her, the happy hum of the lunch crowd buzzed cheerfully through the sunlit room, at harsh odds with her worried face. Her eyes stared unseeingly at the glass as she slowly wiped, distracted by her thoughts. Absently, her ears picked up the faint chime of the bell as the door swung open and a few content customers spilled out onto the bright street. She paid no heed to them, lost in thought as she was.

Her hand, already wiping at a lazy pace, slowed even further until it stopped altogether. She let it drop limply to her side. Just beyond her glass barrier, out on the lively street, happy townspeople passed by her unfocused gaze.

Her hollow peace was interrupted, however, when a trio of familiar, giggling children dashed inside the tavern, throwing open the front door with a loud bang and a clanging of bell, startling the girl out of her distracted thoughts.

"Asuka!" The lead child, a happy young girl with a round, childish face and long black braids that whipped behind her as she ran called out as she nearly crashed into the girl at the window. "Guess what, guess what!" she yelled excitedly, completely unconcerned that she had nearly knocked the older girl through the glass. "Last night-"

Her sidekicks, two gangly twin boys with copious amounts of freckles splattered across their faces, caught up with her and each jammed a quick hand across her mouth, stopping her jumbled words.

"Shh!" the twin on the left hissed at her, though he had a wide, eager grin stretched across his speckled face.

"We want to tell her, too!" the one on the right insisted with a matching grin of his own.

The older girl, her task at the window now completely abandoned, smiled at the younger children despite herself, relieved at the interruption.

"Alright," she asked, quietly indulgent. "What's going on, guys?"

Glaring sternly at her two friends, the younger girl pushed their hands away from her mouth and placed her own on her hips. "I get to tell," she firmly declared, "because I was the one who found out first." Her fierce, determined voice held no room for argument.

Grumbling, her partners-in-crime exchanged frustrated glances, but their excitement was too impatient for them to argue further.

"Fine," the boy on the left agreed, rolling his eyes. "Just hurry up and tell her!"

"Right!" she yelled happily, bouncing up and down on her heels in barely suppressed energy. "Guess what, Asuka!"

A quick, barely-there smile answered, accompanied by a breath of laughter at the children's excitement. "What?"

"Last night, guess who arrived in town! Guess! Guess!"

"Well-" Asuka began, but the younger girl quickly cut her off impatiently.

"Pirates!" she yelled loudly, her eyes bright with childish delight. "But guess which pirates!"

"Pirates?" Asuka gasped, and her soft brown eyes filled with slight, involuntary fear. Pirates weren't necessarily rare visitors along the Grand Line, but they usually didn't bring anything but bad news with them, sometimes attacking the townspeople and raiding their supplies. "Does your father know about them?" she asked urgently.

"Of course," the small girl scoffed. "He's the mayor, he knows _everything_! And don't worry, he met some of them, and they're nice pirates, and aren't going to steal anything! So it's okay. But guess which pirates they are!"

"Nice pirates?" Asuka repeated, feeling herself starting to relax. 'Nice pirates' was how the tiny mayor's daughter referred to the occasional crews that were just in port to quietly stock up their ship, not wishing to draw unwanted notice to themselves. They were usually either relatively unknown pirates or pirates that had so much attention at the moment that they couldn't afford any more. Personally, Asuka thought the term 'nice pirates' contradicted itself; in her mind, there was only 'attacking pirates' and 'uninterested pirates'.

"So they're just passing through, then?"

"Yep," the brother on the right confirmed excitedly, bobbing his head quickly, causing his curly dark locks to bounce around erratically. His twin eagerly bobbed his head as well, but his decidedly less curly, though equally dark hair merely flopped down into eyes.

"But guess which pirates they are!" the girl in the middle interrupted impatiently.

"Are they-"

"The Strawhat pirates!" she cut in happily.

"Mei!" her curly-haired friend reprimanded sternly. "Don't ask her to guess if you're just going to tell her anyway!"

"It's annoying," the other boy agreed, more mildly.

Asuka stared at the trio in surprise. The Strawhat pirates had become quite famous recently, after their unbelievable stunt at Enies Lobby just a couple of weeks ago. The news had caused quite a stir among the townspeople, and for a few days afterwards it was all people talked about. Asuka herself had studied the eight wanted posters carefully, curious about the bold faces that made up such a small yet audacious crew. For them to take on Enies Lobby and actually make out alive… it seemed like a miracle to her, an outrageous miracle, something that only happened in stories.

But they were still pirates, and therefore not to be admired.

"Guess what else!" Mei continued, tugging at Asuka's attention once more. "One of them came into town last night, and then he drank _a lot _at that bar that smells kinda funny, and then he walked around a bit, _and now he's right over there!_" she finished breathlessly, pointing an excited finger out the window.

_There_, it turned out, was on the other side of the street. _There_, just a stone's throw away, Asuka could easily see the man in question, though he had escaped her attention before. He was seated on the ground, lounging against the crumbling brick wall behind him, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His powerful arms were folded tightly across his chest. Nothing could be seen of his face, as his chin was dropped to his chest and keeping his features obscured.

There was no doubt as to his identity, however, and Asuka could tell, from the way they were careful to give him a wide berth as they passed by, that the other townspeople had recognized him as well. If the three deadly swords resting across his lap didn't instantly tip off who it was, then the head of abnormally green hair did.

That, without a doubt, was Roronoa Zoro.

Asuka felt a shiver of fear race up her spine. That man was worth 120 million beli – an amount unusually large, even for these waters. She had heard he fought like a demon, a man possessed. Definitely a dangerous man, and there he was, sleeping obliviously on their own little street.

She glanced down at the three children beside her. They all had their noses pressed against the newly-cleaned glass, staring intently at the dozing pirate. She could tell from their faces that they didn't have the same healthy aversion to pirates that she did.

"He's so _cool,_" the curly twin whispered, almost reverently. "I wonder how he fights with three swords… Does he use all of 'em at once?"

"I heard he does, sometimes," his twin whispered back, his eyes also trained unwaveringly on the swordsman. "I heard he actually puts one in his _mouth_."

"…So _cool._"

"Mei…" Asuka was struck by a sudden thought. "Did your father tell them about Miser's gang? A few of them could be on this side of the island right now. You know how they like to go after pirates with high bounties, and the gang is so strong… It could cause trouble if there was a confrontation in town."

Mei twisted her head away from the window to smile happily up at Asuka, her eyes bright and cheerful. "Yep, he told them. And guess what one of them said! He said they didn't care about any shitty bounty hunter bastards!"

The two boys burst into peals of delighted laughter, and Asuka's mouth twitched slightly despite her chagrin.

"Don't cuss, Mei. It isn't ladylike."

"But that's what Dad told me he said!"

"And I'm sure the pirate isn't trying to become a lady, unlike you. And in any case, that wasn't what I was worried about. What if there's a fight in town?" she finished, somewhat anxiously.

"Yeah right," Mei dismissed the idea as clearly ridiculous. "Nothing exciting ever happens around here. And anyway, wouldn't that be good? Maybe they'd get rid of Miser for us!"

"Look!" the left twin interrupted suddenly before Asuka could reply doubtfully (Miser's gang was much too strong, and who'd ever heard of a bunch of pirates actually fighting _for _a town, anyway?). He was staring a little farther down the dusty street. "That man over there looks like he's headed straight for Roronoa!"

The others quickly pressed closer to the glass, peering farther down the road.

"He looks…angry," Mei whispered.

The blond stranger did indeed look angry. He was striding down the street swiftly, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black suit, his long legs easily stretching to carry him along at a purposeful pace. His otherwise pleasant face was scrunched up in irritation, and he was chewing agitatedly on a thin cigarette bobbing up and down between his lips. And he was certainly headed straight for the sleeping swordsman.

"He's not from Miser's gang, though…" Asuka mused, and her mind hurriedly ran through the faces from the recent wanted posters. "I don't think he's a Strawhat, either. I don't recognize him at all – he must just be another stranger traveling along the Grand Line. I hope he doesn't try to start anything with Roronoa. He might get killed…" She gnawed on her bottom lip in worry, and noticed with dismay that the younger children all looked excited at the possibility.

Mei particularly was watching the stranger with avid fascination.

"Maybe there'll be a fight." She bounced a little, impatient and excited.

"Do you think he's going to attack Roronoa while he's sleeping?" one of the boys asked, frowning.

"Looks like it," the other boy frowned as well. "That's not very fair. But it doesn't look like he has any weapons, so I don't know what he could really do…" he trailed off, and they all – along with quite a few anxious people from the street who had also noticed the angry blond – stared as the stranger at last reached the green-haired pirate's side.

Under numerous apprehensive eyes, a long black leg suddenly extended straight up in front of the unknown man, pausing for a moment in a perfect, vertical split. Then it sliced downwards, directly towards the drooping, green head.

"Ahhh! Watch out!" Mei yelled, and the other three watchers at the window sucked their breath in sharply.

But suddenly, there was a long, black scabbard clenched in a tight fist, blocking the shoe from following through and connecting. Both men froze for a moment, Roronoa still with his head dropped to his chest despite his extended arm and scabbard. Then, slowly, the green head raised and tilted up to meet the other man's angry gaze, revealing his grinning features at last.

Asuka's breath caught in her throat, and icy fear tingled in her veins. The pirate looked _exactly_ like his wanted poster, though right now his face was twisted into a taunting, dangerous smirk. He exuded an air of deadly strength, and Asuka suddenly felt very frightened for the other man who had dared attack Roronoa Zoro as he slept.

However, when she glanced at him, she found the blond was glaring daggers down at the swordsman, radiating a dangerous aura of his own. He leaned forward slightly, his chest going to his thigh and the knee bending as he pressed more of his weight into his raised leg, but the scabbard and smirk stayed where they were. Asuka could see the blond's mouth moving quickly, angrily, and the mouth of the other man moving in smirking reply, but she couldn't hear what they were saying.

There was a tense minute or so as the two men exchanged unheard words, and all watching waited with bated breath. Then the blond man suddenly smirked as well and lifted his leg to let it drop lightly back down to the ground. They could see him rolling his cigarette around between his fingers, followed by him throwing some more words down at the swordsman, along with a devilish grin.

Roronoa did not seem to appreciate whatever it was the blond man said, because his smirk instantly disappeared and was replaced by an irritated scowl, the kind of scowl that made Asuka very glad it wasn't pointed at her, and the tension in the street kicked up another notch. Discretely, the nearest townspeople began backing away from the tense pair, mothers pulling their children closer to their sides. It seemed evident that a major confrontation was about to occur, and the townspeople clearly did not want to be caught in the middle of it.

Asuka couldn't say she blamed them – especially since one of the infamous Strawhat pirates was involved. And if she were in the blond man's shoes, she would be wasting no time in running away as fast as possible, or maybe getting down on her knees and pleading for mercy. She definitely wouldn't be _antagonizing_ the pirate, as it appeared the handsome stranger was determined to do.

Yet it seemed the blond had not yet reached the peak of his stupidity, and Asuka could only stare in disbelief at his new act of foolishness.

"What's he _thinking_?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

The blond man had actually turned his back on Roronoa, the man known as the demon swordsman, after provoking him into a state of anger. But instead of shaking in fear, as seemed reasonable to Asuka, he was standing there, coolly smoking his cigarette and tapping his foot as though waiting for a slow child.

It appeared to her as though, with that simple yet arrogant motion, the man had stamped his own death warrant.

"Do you think Roronoa'll use all three swords?" she heard one twin whisper to the other.

"Hope so," was the breathless reply.

She noticed Mei was just staring with wide eyes, a mixture of fear and excitement swirling within their depths.

The world seemed to freeze as everyone in the vicinity anxiously watched the green-haired pirate for his reaction. For a moment, all he did was glare fiercely up at the other man's back. Then, in one smooth motion he rose effortlessly to his feet and tied his three swords to their place at his right hip.

The blond man turned and drew the cigarette out of his mouth to blow a bold stream of smoke at the pirate. He spoke once more, the swordsman rolled his eyes, his scowl receding slightly, and they both started together down the street.

It took a moment for Asuka's brain to process what had just happened. One minute she was expecting to see the blond man slashed to bloody ribbons by the swordsman, the next the two were strolling down the street together like they'd known each other for years, hurling words and taunting looks back and forth.

A collective sigh of relief passed through the entire street as the two men disappeared down the dirt road. The four young people at the window all sighed as well, one in relief and the rest in disappointment.

"Looks like they aren't going to fight," Mei said sadly.

"Don't sound so unhappy about it." Asuka took a deep, steadying breath as she felt her racing heart begin to slow and her body begin to calm down after the spike of adrenaline. "What if either of them had died?" Despite her dislike of pirates, she had no desire to see one killed before her eyes.

The three children regarded her with identically pitying, patronizing expressions.

"Asuka," Mei said condescendingly, "that was _Roronoa Zoro_. A _pirate_. He's not going to die."

"Yeah," the curly-haired twin added, his voice suddenly tight and excited. "Did you see how quick he blocked that kick? One second he's sleeping, then BAM!" He slapped his hands together loudly, startling the older girl. "He's so cool! And that other guy looked pretty strong, too, I guess. I wonder who he was…" he added as an afterthought.

"Well, if he got hurt it would be his own fault, 'cause he tried to attack a dangerous pirate," Mei sniffed dismissingly.

"Oi," the twin with straight hair jumped in suddenly, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he peered out the window once more. "Mei, your dad's coming up the street. Does he know you're out of the house?"

"Nope," Mei giggled, pressing her face into the glass as well to get better look. "But it's okay, 'cause he's not looking for me."

As the mayor of the small town passed by, looking preoccupied and worried, the three small children ducked their heads down quickly, until he had passed the small tavern by.

Mei's head popped back up, and she nudged her friends, smiling cheerfully. "Clear!" she said happily. "Daddy's been distracted all morning anyway. Mayorish stuff," she added importantly. "Oh! Asuka, where's Asher? We want to tell him about the pirates too!"

"He's in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. Be careful, though…he's in a bad mood." Her face fell as she remembered why he was in a bad mood – the same reason for her own troubled feelings, which had been forgotten in the recent excitement.

The children shared knowing glances with each other, before Mei spoke up carefully.

"Is he still upset about your cousin?"

She nodded. "But I bet hearing about the pirates will cheer him up, so go tell him!" He always did have a ridiculous love of pirates, ever since he was very young.

The trio nodded enthusiastically. "Okay!" Mei shouted, eager once more to spread the exciting news. "C'mon, you guys! And remember, I get to tell!" The three took off, weaving through the tables and headed to the door in the back leading to the kitchen, laughing and arguing all the while.

The girl at the window once again returned to her task, and even the thought of the famous pirates anchored near their town couldn't stop her from becoming distracted and dejected once more.

* * *

Meanwhile, the two men who had caused such a stir earlier among the quiet townspeople were presently standing at the top of the steep, twisting path that hugged the face of the cliffs and led to the ocean below.

"Alright, dumbass, listen carefully. The ship is right there, at the bottom of the cliffs. The same cliffs we saw last night. You know, the really big ones…? Next time you get lost, just jump off these, and you'll find the ship. Got it, marimo?"

"Shut up, shit-cook. I told you it was dark last night."

"Whatever." The blond flicked his cigarette over the edge of the cliff and started carefully down the winding trail to the waiting ship below, picking his cautious way around the worst of the rubble that was strewn across the narrow path, pressing close to the sheer rock wall. "I swear, you're like a damn kid. We can't let you out on your own. Next time you want to go get plastered, make sure you know how to get back to the ship so you don't end up sleeping on the street like some shitty bum."

"I told you to shut up," the swordsman growled irritably and stomped down after the blond, considerably less carefully. However, his glowering expression quickly morphed into a smirk. "What, were you worried about me or something, cook? Heh. Didn't know you cared."

"Like hell. You missed breakfast _and_ lunch, and of course I'm the one who has to chase after your lost ass. You're such a pain." The blond slipped slightly on some loose stubble, and automatically the swordsman grabbed his arm in a tight grip to steady him.

"Don't slip, _dumbass_."

The blond smirked. "What, were you worried about me or something?"

Rolling his eyes, the other man just brushed past him roughly to continue down towards their ship. "Like you said, I missed breakfast and lunch. You gonna make me food, or you gonna fall off the cliff like an idiot?"

A growl of annoyance slipped out of the cook's mouth as he stalked angrily, carefully, after the other. "Gah, you're so infuriating. You think you can miss meals, then expect me to cater to your whims? Well it's not happening, shitty marimo – I'm not making you any more food today."

The swordsman paused to throw a taunting, calculating look back at the blond. "Are you saying you won't give me food? When I'm hungry?"

Another growl. "Shut up. I'm saying I'm not making you _more_ food. I already put a plate for you in the fridge, so you better be damn grateful."

"Che." The pirate started tramping down the trail again. "I probably would have been better off picking up something from that tavern back in town, anyway."

A swift, black leg from behind threw the unsuspecting swordsman off his feet and tumbling down the narrow, rocky path, where he landed in a painful heap at one of the trail's tight switchback corners. A few moments later the blond cook sauntered past, smirking around a fresh cigarette as he rounded the corner and slipped past the other man, who was slowly rising to his feet and pointing a deadly glare at him.

"Don't slip, _dumbass._"

"What the hell was that for, asshole?"

The blond continued casually but still carefully downwards, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge the fuming man at his back. "Unless you want a one-kick ride directly down to the ship, I suggest you shut your mouth and be grateful I even bothered saving you any food. I should've just given it to the captain."

"Right. Like your pansy-ass kicks could manage that." But the swordsman kept silent after that anyway.

For quite a few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were the quiet shuffle of boots sliding on loose dirt and the _plunk, plunk_ of small stones becoming dislodged and sent tumbling down the mountainside, and the distant sound of waves colliding with shore. The gentle _shush_ of the waves grew louder and harsher as the men went farther and farther down, and when they reached the base of the cliffs the crunch of dirt and stones became the crunch of sand underfoot.

There, at the foot of the cliffs, a narrow, empty stretch of beach stood as a buffer between the rocks and the sea. Beyond it, anchored just off the sandy shoreline, a pirate ship bearing a flag that had become rather infamous of late was being lightly rocked by the waves.

"SANJI! ZORO!" An excited call sprang from the ship, and the two men on shore could see their captain seated on the figurehead and waving at them furiously. Then two rubbery arms shot towards them, one wrapping ominously around each of their waists before either of them could blink.

In the split second before the elastic appendages could rebound, snapping back to their owner, the two pirates' eyes connected.

"_Oh_ _shit._"

And then they were launched through air, unable to hold on to anything as they were yanked back to their ship, finally landing in a tangle of limbs and groans.

A certain Monkey D. Luffy, a pirate whose name was already causing ripples of interest and fear along all the Grand Line, wiggled happily out of the heap of bodies and beamed down at his two nakama.

"You found him, Sanji! Now you can make me more food!"

With a glare at his captain, Sanji roughly extracted himself from his equally glaring crewmate. "Warn us next time, idiot!" He stood and straightened his rumpled suit, dusting his knees and smoothing his tie. "And I'm not giving you any more food right now."

"Zo-"

"No, you can't have mine," Zoro cut in before Luffy could even finish the first word, already up and headed towards the galley, ignoring the captain's disappointed whine. "So, where's my food, cook?"

Sanji turned his glare so it was fixed on the back of the green head. "I told you, it's in the fridge. Do you need a map or something?"

"The thing's got a lock, remember? How am I supposed to get in, smartass?"

Sanji had forgotten the brilliant addition to the Sunny's fridge, courtesy their newest nakama and shipwright. Normally he was grateful beyond words for the lock, what with the food-sneaking tendencies of their captain, but for some reason he wasn't feeling very pleased with it at the moment.

"Fine, I'll get it for you," he grumbled, hating that the marimo was right. He flicked the remains of his useless cigarette overboard, which had been crushed in the rough landing after his quick jaunt across the water, and followed after the swordsman to the galley.

When he entered he found Zoro already seated at the counter and drumming his thumb against its smooth surface. He crossed over to the fridge and, after jabbing in the code for the lock a little harder than was probably necessary, tugged it open to pull out the plate with Zoro's large chilled sandwich.

"It's got the rest of that fish you caught two days ago, and a sauce I won't bother telling you the ingredients of because you wouldn't understand anyway. Enjoy." He tossed the plate carelessly at Zoro, who caught it easily and gave a grunt Sanji chose to interpret as gratitude.

The sound of quiet munching filled the kitchen as Sanji let the fridge swing shut with a soft click of the lock.

"And wash your plate when you're done."

Zoro grunted again. Sanji chose to interpret it as an agreement.

Leaning his hips against the stove, Sanji stood across from Zoro and watched him go about devouring the sandwich quickly and efficiently. Crumbs fell from mouth to countertop, missing the half-empty plate, and Zoro swept them to the floor with a cupped hand. Sanji crossed his arms and raised an expectant eyebrow.

Oblivious, Zoro finished the rest of the sandwich in three large, swift bites, the last bite squishing out a gooey drop of sauce that fell to the counter. He swiped it up with a finger, leaving behind a messy smear, then shoved the finger in his mouth, already full with the rest of the sandwich, and sucked the sauce off with a loud _pop_ as the finger left.

Sanji let his other eyebrow join its fellow at the top of his hairline, not that anyone could have seen it behind the fall of hair. One finger began tapping quietly against his arm as he regarded the swordsman with mild disgust.

Zoro wiped his finger absently on his shirt, still chewing. Picking up the empty plate he stood, but he paused halfway up when he finally noticed the cook's unamused expression.

"Wha'?" A few more crumbs tumbled from his mouth to the floor. He finished swallowing and straightened up all the way. "I'm going to clear the plate," he said, slightly defensively and glaring at the cook.

Sanji sighed wearily. He shoved away from the stove and, leaning across the counter towards Zoro, yanked the plate out of his hands.

"I'll wash this. You get the broom and clean up the mess you made all over my kitchen." A damp rag was flung at Zoro's head, which he barely caught in time to keep from smacking into his face. "And wipe up the counter while you're at it." He flipped the hot water on in the sink and dipped the plate into the stream.

"Why should I?" Zoro demanded of his back. "I bet most of that mess is from Luffy, anyway."

Sanji didn't answer or turn away from the sink, but continued washing the plate unhurriedly.

"You probably didn't make anyone else clean up, did you?"

Sanji fished in a drawer and pulled out a clean towel, then began wiping the clean plate.

"Don't try to make me into your busboy, shit-cook," Zoro growled threateningly.

Three and a half minutes later, Robin entered the galley and couldn't help but smile a little at the scene. Zoro, broom in hand and a fierce scowl on his face, was grumbling under his breath as he viciously attacked the floor with his sweeping, while Sanji smoked serenely against the counter.

"Is everything alright in here?" she asked with the smallest bit of laughter dancing in her eyes.

"Robin-chan!" Sanji turned to her, delight spreading across the revealed half of his face. "Everything's fine, the marimo is just learning the consequences of disappearing overnight and missing two meals in a row."

"Are you supposed to be the cook or the mother on this ship?" the angry sweeper griped under his breath.

"Is there anything I can get you, Robin-chan?" Sanji asked, magnanimously ignoring Zoro's comment as he ground out his cigarette. "Coffee, tea, some juice…?"

"Coffee would be wonderful; thank you cook-san." The tall woman slipped gracefully into one of the seats at the table as Sanji flurried into action, and Zoro snorted derisively at the cook's fluttering about.

With a quick rush of air, the galley door was flung open and the ship's navigator strode in, the sniper right on her heels.

"Nami-san! Would you like some coffee?" Sanji called happily as he set a pot of water on the stove to boil.

"Not right now, Sanji-kun," the navigator answered briskly, sliding into the chair next to Robin and glaring sternly at Zoro, who had now finished sweeping and was trying to slink out the door. "Not so fast, _Zoro_. How much did you spend last night, hmm?"

Zoro groaned and turned around to face the accusatory frown pointed his way with a scowl of his own.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," he grumbled. "Or am I not allowed to go drinking when I want anymore?"

"Not with the current amount of money you owe me. And that was really stupid to just stroll into town like that, before we knew anything about the island. There could have been marines there! You would've gotten us all in trouble!"

"Well, there weren't any, so it was fine, wasn't it? And it's my money so I can spend it how I like!"

As the shouting match began to escalate, Usopp ambled over to the kitchen area where Sanji had pulled out two huge slabs of meat and begun rubbing spices into them with his usual swift, precise motions.

"Oi, Sanji. What's the meat for?"

Sanji didn't even bother looking up from his task. "We're all going into town for dinner tonight, right?" he said, dropping the seasoned meat into a waiting pan. "That means unless we want Luffy to eat every scrap of food at the poor place where we choose to eat, he's going to need something to take the edge off before we leave." Flame flared to life underneath the pan, and the quiet sound of sizzling meat filled the air, accompaniment to Nami's and Zoro's shouting. "That's what one is for. The other's for whoever stays with the ship tonight."

Usopp blinked. "Oh…that makes sense."

Leaving the meat to slowly brown, Sanji flicked off the burner for the now boiling water and went about preparing Robin's coffee, using a special blend he had picked up in Arabasta. He cupped the steaming mug carefully in his hands and, stepping around the counter to the table, placed it gently in front of the older woman with a charming smile.

Meanwhile, it seemed the war between the swordsman and navigator was over, as Nami had that particularly satisfied smirk that usually meant Zoro's interest rate had increased again.

"Now then," Nami began in a business-like tone, ignoring Zoro's irritated mutters (_"Damn witch."_). "Could someone find the rest of the crew? There's something important we need to talk about before we go up to the town tonight."

Sanji, back at his post at the stove, called cheerfully over his shoulder, "Nami-san! Chopper was mixing medicine in the infirmary before I left; he's probably still there!"

"Right. Usopp, you go find Luffy and Franky."

"Why do _I_ have- Ah! R-right away, Nami!"

As Usopp dashed out the door as fast as he could, away from the navigator's stormy glare, Nami had already trotted over the infirmary door and knocked on it smartly.

"Chopper? You in there?"

Faint crashes and muffled yelps answered her, before the door swung open to reveal a blushing Chopper.

"D-did you need something, Nami?"

Nami grinned down at the embarrassed doctor. "Sorry for startling you, Chopper. Can you come out for a minute? We're going to tell them about what you found out last night."

"Oh! Of course-"

BANG!

The main door flew open and a red-colored blur shot into the room, headed straight for the stove.

"MEEEAAAT!"

"Not yet!" A black shoe came crashing down on the blur's head and sent it sprawling to the floor.

Luffy rubbed the back of his head and pouted. "Stingy…"

"It's not even cooked yet!"

"That's okay!"

"NO!"

"Sanji…"

A rush of air and squeak of hinges announced the opening of the galley door once more.

"Alright, Zoro-bro! You're back! Did you have a super time in town?"

"Nami! I found Franky, but I'm not sure where Luffy… Oh, he's already here! I mean, I, the Great Captain Usopp already knew he was in here, using super powers of deduction and-"

"Need…meat..."

"Get off the floor, and stop drooling on my shoes!"

"Meeeaaat…"

"EVERYONE BE QUIET!

"…thank you. So now that we have everyone back at the ship," Nami paused to cast a dark glance at the unconcerned swordsman, "I'll tell you what Sanji-kun and Chopper found out last night."

"Why are _you_ telling us then?" Usopp cut in, raising a hand and a dark eyebrow at the navigator.

"Just shut up and listen! Anyway, while they were exploring the beach, looking for an easier way up the cliff than that little trail-"

"We didn't find one," Sanji added helpfully from the stove.

"-they ran into the mayor of Case Ridge."

"Wait a minute." Zoro was frowning in confusion and suspicion. "What was the mayor doing wandering around the beach that late at night? Sounds fishy," he grunted.

"He told me he was taking a walk," Sanji answered, "trying to clear his thoughts – Luffy! Hands off! – and honestly, he looked like he could use some good thought-clearing. Right, Chopper?"

Chopper nodded faithfully up at the cook, his tiny face drawn and serious. "I'm worried he'll give himself stomach ulcers if he doesn't deal with whatever is causing him stress."

"Anyway," Nami drew the attention back to the matter at hand by rapping loudly on the table, "it turns out that as long as we're just stocking up, we don't have to worry about the townspeople sending the marines after us. They're not very fond of the marines, so as long as we don't cause any trouble we don't have to hide."

"Super!" Franky grinned and flicked his sunglasses up to the top of his head, then turned to the sniper leaning against the counter. "Oi, long-nose, bet we can find any good parts for the cannon we're modifying?"

Usopp scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe… It's a small town, but it seems-"

"I'M NOT FINISHED YET!"

"Ah…! Th-that's a scary face, Nami!"

"_As_ I was saying, we don't have to worry about the townspeople. _However_, the mayor told Sanji-kun there is a gang of sorts that wanders around the island, and they tend to go after large bounties that pass through the town. _However, _there are only a few members of the gang floating around town right now – LUFFY! LEAVE THE MEAT ALONE AND LISTEN TO ME! – with the majority being on the other side of the island with the boss. So we should be fine. But I want you all to keep your heads down and not cause any trouble… _Am I clear?_"

"Clear!" Chopper and Usopp jumped to a stiff salute.

Sanji, his hands busy with the meat and his feet busy with Luffy, tossed a smile over his shoulder. "Right, Nami-san! We'll keep out of trouble!"

Zoro just grunted.

"Meeaat…" Luffy moaned around the foot currently shoved in his mouth.

Chuckling, Robin took a quiet sip of coffee. "I'm sure we'll try, but trouble seems to have a tendency of finding this crew no matter what."

Nami gave a weary sigh and sank back into the chair next to the other woman. "I know. But the log pose sets in two days, so there's a chance we can make it without drawing too much attention to ourselves." She stiffened suddenly and, with a frown, snapped, "Zoro! If anything happens I'm adding it to your debt!"

"WHAT?"

"Don't shout at Nami-san!"

"Shut up, stupid ero-cook!"

"WHAT WAS THAT, SHITTY MARIMO?"

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP! Zoro, I'm adding it to your debt because I know it'll be your fault! You'll probably pick a fight with someone and bring every bounty hunter on the island crashing down on us!"

"She's right, you know."

"I told you to shut up, shit-cook!"

"Don't tell me what to – LUFFY! I SAID NO! Keep your damn grabby hands away from the food!"

The captain sulked and stuck his red hands into his mouth, sucking where Sanji had trapped them on the hot stove with his foot.

"Um…Nami?" Chopper spoke up quietly, timidly. "I need a few medical supplies…mostly just bandages…is it okay if I buy some here?"

Nami nodded quickly at the little doctor. "We'll use tomorrow to shop and pick up supplies, then we can be gone by the next morning. Just save your receipts."

"Nami-san…" Sanji frowned thoughtfully and turned away slightly from his work. "How are we going to get all the supplies down the cliff? There isn't much room on the trail."

"We'll just have to be careful and carry them. Make sure you take Zoro with you tomorrow when you do the food shopping."

"Right, Nami-san!"

"Don't volunteer me for things, witch!"

"Don't call Nami-san a witch!"

"What are you gonna do about it, curly-brow?"

"How 'bout I-" Sanji stopped suddenly, staring down at the conspicuously empty pan that had remained in his hand as he whirled away from the stove to shout at Zoro. Slowly, his gaze rose to the bulging cheeks of his cheerful captain.

"Mmm… Tasty, Sanji!"

"Luffy…" he said in a carefully even tone. "Did you swipe the meat while I wasn't looking?"

The captain laughed happily around the meat in his mouth, its juice trickling down his chin. "Yep! It's tasty!"

The rest of the crew hardly batted an eye as their captain was sent crashing into the far wall of the galley, except for the shipwright who winced violently, though he immediately relaxed when he saw there was no damage done.

"Alright, cook-bro! Thanks for not tearing up the walls!"

Sanji paused, lighter already to a cigarette in his mouth, and smiled. "No problem, Franky." _Click_. He let the lighter flicker on and kissed the flame to his cigarette, then snapped it shut.

"Anyway," Nami continued as though there had been no interruption, "does everyone understand the rules? No bothering the townspeople and no drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves. And everybody help keep Luffy in check, you know how he is."

"Got it, _mom_."

"Do you _want_ your interest raised?"

"Alright!" Luffy jumped to his feet. "I understand!"

Nami looked at him in surprise. "You do?"

"Yep!" The captain chuckled, a broad grin across his face. "We're going to get food! Let's go, guys! Food! And then an adventure!"

"NO! No adventures on this island!"

"C'mon! Let's go!"

"We're not ready to leave yet! Listen to me!"

"FOOOOOOOOD!"

The first mate sighed and began resignedly following after their captain. "Let's go. We might as well follow him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Besides, I'm hungry. That shitty sandwich barely even filled me."

"WHAT WAS THAT, MARIMO?"


	2. Cliffside Tavern

**Chapter 2**

_Cliffside Tavern_

* * *

Amid noisy chatter and the rich scent of hearty stew, Sanji spooned up a swimming carrot and glanced discretely around the bright tavern the crew had chosen.

It was a lively place, with slightly rowdy patrons and only a minimum of wary glances being thrown the pirates' way. Sunlight – crimson, dying light streaming from the horizon – angled in through the large front windows to the west and was swallowed up by the soft electric glow that pooled inside the tavern and out onto the street. On the north wall, a bar serving the loudest customers was tended by a wiry, black-haired man with calculating eyes and a ready bottle. The center of the room was crammed with tables full of carefree diners, laughing and slurping and nattering and shouting out for "more rum, doll!"

The doll in question, a gangly chit of a girl that didn't look old enough to be serving anyone alcohol, was scurrying around the tables, refilling tankards and replacing bowls with a shy smile and careful hands. She seemed surprisingly comfortable among such a boisterous crowd, as she slipped unobtrusively about serving drinks and soup. She seemed in her element, as if she had been serving noisy townspeople her entire life.

Yet, whenever she approached the relatively quiet table in the corner that sat the pirates (minus a certain reindeer doctor, who was watching the ship), Sanji noticed her hands became slightly shaky and she got a skittish look in her eyes, as if she'd rather be anywhere else than where she was.

It was puzzling.

Several times Sanji tried smiling reassuringly at her, unhappy that a young lady was so terrified of them (especially since the crew was actually behaving rather well, for once – and by well he meant that Luffy was limiting himself to only stealing food from his own crew, not the other diners, and the rest of the crew's men were merely stuffing their faces with food and drink, not starting fights or bothering the other patrons). But all his smiles served to do was earn him timid flushes, disconcertingly searching looks, and apprehensive glances at his companions. She never spoke to any of them, just quickly refilled their drinks or dropped off another tray of stew then scampered away, always meeting only Sanji's eyes.

It was puzzling and rather frustrating, but it was what he got for sailing around with pirates, he supposed. Uncivilized bunch, the lot of them. Scaring children with their bad manners and worse reputations. Except, of course, the ladies – they were _always_ beacons of grace and class.

"Oi...aho-cook," Zoro grunted next to him and took a messy swig from the bottle he was monopolizing.

Sanji answered him with an annoyed flash of his eyes. The swordsman was one such rough, uncultured swine that no doubt routinely frightened children just by being in the same building as them. It was no doubt the fault of that ugly mug of his that he never bothered to do anything with but scowl.

"That mayor guy sounds off to me," Zoro continued, undeterred by the cook's scathing glance. "Like Whiskey Peak. Fishy." He tossed back another gulp of sake. Despite his seemingly worried words, the swordsman didn't appear concerned in the least, as if he was simply remarking on something mildly interesting rather than potentially dangerous. And, knowing Zoro, that was probably exactly what he thought he was doing.

But he did have a bit of a point – the mayor couldn't actually pose much of a threat to them.

So, grudgingly, Sanji made a quiet noise of agreement and fished around in his stew some more. "Don't know what he could try to pull, really," he said. "There's not much he can do to us."

He thoughtlessly batted away a determined hand that was trying to snatch away the warm roll beside his soup (for the twelfth time that evening) and pointedly glanced around at the loud but unmenacing diners.

"The town itself doesn't have enough manpower to be any sort of threat to us. And even if he sent for the marines, it's at least three days before they can get here. We'll be gone by then."

"Yeah." Zoro slurped up a noisy spoonful of stew, and Sanji once again despaired of the company he kept. "Just saying he's suspicious." With an expert whirl of his spoon, the swordsman whacked the hand now going after his own roll, which quickly decided to turn to other, less well-protected plates.

"There's that gang the mayor was talking about," Zoro continued, still seeming wholly unconcerned and punctuating his remark with another guzzle of sake. "They could be a nuisance," he finished, wiping a hand across his mouth.

"Maybe," Sanji murmured in agreement, but he was now distracted by the young serving girl who had just slipped through the kitchen door after one last frightened glance towards their table. Though Sanji had accepted the fact that, as pirates and especially pirates of their recent fame, people were going to be afraid of them, it still bothered him.

Zoro raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Going after kids now, ero-cook?"

"Don't be an asshole, marimo. She's probably only ten years old." Sanji rolled his eyes and turned back to his soup. "She seems really scared of us. Maybe you should try smiling once in a while, and then kids wouldn't always run away from you."

"Che. Maybe you should get an actual dick once in a while, and then _women_ wouldn't always run away from _you_."

Food forgotten, Sanji dropped his spoon quietly back into his bowl to turn a heated glare at the smirking bastard to his right. Zoro had somehow always managed to get under his skin faster than anyone else he knew, and tonight was no exception.

"What was that?" he growled dangerously.

"I _said_, maybe you should get an actual _dick_-" the swordsman yanked his head back just in time to avoid the heavy, black shoe Sanji shot towards his chin.

"Don't talk to me, _shitty marimo_." Sanji let his leg drop back to ground and, plucking up his abandoned spoon, once again returned to his soup. "Especially when I'm pretty sure you got _your own_ dick chopped off a long time ago."

Zoro just chuckled and took another bite. Sanji ignored the twinge of disappointment that the fight had so easily fizzled out, reminding himself that the tavern would be too crowded for a good clash with the swordsman, not to mention they were supposed to be keeping a low profile.

Usopp, who had been listening in on their conversation from his seat on the other side of Sanji, asked with a slight frown, "What else did the mayor say about the bounty hunters?"

"Not much," Sanji answered as he settled back into his chair. "And they're not really bounty hunters."

The thieving hand was back now, trying to inch along the table like a poorly-concealed spider, having pillaged elsewhere and obviously still hungry. Sanji slammed his knife into the wood in front of it, the thin metal vibrating, and it scurried away. He took a bite of potato.

"They're some sort of shitty gang that wanders around the island and bothers the various towns," he continued. "Demand free food and rum, that sort of thing. Once in a while, if someone with a bounty on their head comes to the island, they'll go after them and claim the bounty. We shouldn't have to worry though – the mayor said almost the entire gang is on the other side of the island right now. As long as we don't draw a lot of attention to ourselves, they won't even know we're here. We won't have a problem with them."

This time, the hungry hand went for a surprise attack. In a sudden flash of movement it shot towards Sanji's plate, fingers outstretched, then switched direction mid-air and darted towards Zoro's. Spoon halfway to his mouth, Zoro quickly wrapped his own hand around the attacking wrist and stopped it dead. He finished his bite, then wrenched the hand back as far as it would go and released it. It snapped back to its owner and sent him flying to the floor with a satisfying crash.

"Eat your own damn food, Luffy."

A grin stretched across Sanji's face as his captain jumped back to his feet, trying to untangle the arm that had somehow become wrapped around his own neck.

"Next time we should just tie his hands together from the start," he commented. "Shitty food thief."

Zoro leaned back in his chair to watch their captain as well, who had now managed to get his other hand stuck between his arm and neck. "Or just tie him to the ship and leave him there," he suggested seriously. Tilting his bottle up into his mouth, he frowned and clunked it back down to the table. "Damn it. Sake's gone."

Sanji snorted in amusement, but otherwise kept quiet.

After several moments of fierce tugging, Luffy finally freed both captured limbs and almost knocked over half the dishes on the table. Adjusting his hat, he hopped back in his seat and instantly began eyeing the roll of the person to his immediate left.

"Don't even think about it," Nami, who was sitting in that unfortunate seat, hissed before he could begin his attack, pulling away from her quiet conversation with Robin.

"But Nami," Luffy whined, and Sanji rolled his eyes at the pitiful pout on his mouth. "All my food is gone! I'm still hungry!"

"You already had twenty-three bowls of soup!" The conspicuous tower of empty bowls at the captain's elbow wobbled dangerously as if to emphasize this point.

"But soup doesn't fill me up," moaned Luffy, even as his right arm stretched around behind Franky and snagged the cyborg's entire bowl. Franky, who had had less practice defending his dinner from the bottomless captain, was too late to stop it from being dumped down Luffy's throat and had to settle for slamming the thief's face into the table.

Unabashed, Luffy instantly shot back up and began battling with a fuming Franky for the shipwright's remaining roll, and the rest of the crew turned back to their own meals, knowing theirs would be safe for the moment.

"Stupid captain has no right to still be hungry," Sanji muttered to the quiet swordsman beside him. "Not after stealing that meat I cooked earlier. Shitty garbage disposal."

Zoro ripped a chunk off his roll and soaked it in his stew. "It's Luffy," he said simply, as if that explained everything. And, unfortunately, it did.

"Excuse me," a quiet voice at Sanji's elbow interrupted, a hand shaking only a little as it tugged gently on his left sleeve. He twisted in his seat and found himself face-to-face with a pair of big brown eyes. The little serving girl from earlier was standing there, just behind his chair as though hiding herself from the rest of the table.

"Would he like another bottle of sake?" she whispered, her wide eyes darting significantly to Sanji's right where Zoro was slurping down his soup and pretending (badly) that he wasn't listening to their conversation.

Biting back a cough of laughter at the swordsman's blatancy, Sanji smiled in a way he hoped was charming and comforting. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked.

The girl's eyes widened a bit more and a pink blush rose to her cheeks. "A-Asuka," she stammered, and Sanji had to discretely slam his heel on Zoro's instep when he heard his amused snort.

"Asuka-chan," he continued, ignoring Zoro's pained grunt that the swordsman tried to pass off as a cough. "I promise that the only thing scary about this guy," he jerked his head lightly in Zoro's direction, "is his awful manners. And his breath." He ignored the indignant choke beside him. "It's perfectly safe for you to ask him, though if you'd like I'd be happy to ask for you. But there's really no reason to be scared. Okay?"

For a moment, the girl just stared searchingly into his revealed eye, then she nodded slightly. Her feet shuffled a little to right, so she was closer to Zoro but still safely behind Sanji's chair.

"Um…Roronoa-sama? Would you like another bottle of sake?" Though clearly frightened, Sanji was pleased to note that she kept her voice steady enough.

Zoro, however, much to Sanji's exasperation, didn't bother to stop glaring at the blond cook as he answered the timidly waiting girl. "Yeah. Bring five bottles while you're at it."

"Look at her when you're talking, idiot," Sanji muttered at him under his breath. He'd really have to do something about Zoro's manners someday – maybe try kicking them into him. Even if it didn't work, it would certainly be satisfying for Sanji, at least.

"F-five bottles?" Asuka stuttered over the words, clearly surprised but keen to comply. "Alright! I'll bring those right out!" Quickly, she tried to make her escape from the fearsome pirate's presence but was halted by a sudden protesting voice.

"Wait just a minute, little girl." Across the table, a certain navigator was leaning forward and pinning the disgruntled swordsman with a stern glare. The serving girl froze, and her wide eyes darted towards Sanji uncertainly.

With a small, reassuring smile, Sanji held up a finger, indicating for her to wait a moment.

"Zoro," Nami ground out dangerously, "just how are you planning on paying for those _five bottles of sake?_"

An irritable scowl etched across Zoro's face as he met the navigator's stare. "With my share of the crew's allowance for this island," he answered, as though it should have been obvious.

"Oh, you mean the share you wasted last night on…what was it…_sake?_"

"I didn't spend all of it!"

Sanji, recognizing this argument would take a few minutes to settle, leaned towards Asuka and whispered, "Could you bring out two more bottles?" He glanced towards the captain, who was frowning at a smug, crumb-covered Franky. "And a basket of rolls, please."

With a quick peek towards the arguing pair and swift nod at Sanji, the girl slipped away without another word, and Sanji relaxed back into his chair to enjoy the show of Zoro getting chewed out by the lovely navigator.

After several entertaining minutes, during which the serving girl slipped back and scooted the bottles and basket onto the table next to Sanji then slinked away, the swordsman spat out, "Fine, witch. I'll get two bottles. Happy?" and Sanji let a satisfied grin sneak on to his face.

"Fine," the navigator snapped in agreement. "Little girl, go get two…" she trailed off, noticing the conspicuous lack of serving girl in the area. "Where'd she go?"

"Ah, Nami-san," Sanji answered happily, "I already sent her to get two bottles. I hope that wasn't presumptuous of me?" he asked, smiling at her while he casually handed the bottles to the still grumpy swordsman.

"Oh," the navigator blinked, her surprise evident. "Thanks, I guess. I was going to order some more rolls for Luffy, though…"

Sanji's grin spread a little wider. "I took the liberty of ordering that as well." With a neat toss, the basket of fresh rolls landed in front of the captain, who was now gnawing away at his annoyed and slightly confused shipwright's arm.

"Oh," Nami said again. "Thank you, Sanji-kun."

"Of course, Nami-san!" he cried, wiggling happily in his seat, at least until Zoro smacked him over the head with a spoon.

"You look like an idiot, dumbass cook."

Instantly ready to do battle, Sanji's attention swerved to the swordsman beside him. "What did you say to me, marimo?" he ground out between clenched teeth. He was already itching to kick the smug bastard into the floor and hoped the swordsman was up for a fight now as well.

Zoro met his glare with a satisfied smirk. "Do you really need me to repeat it? Or should we just get to the part where I wipe the floor with your ass?"

Bingo.

"That's it!" Sanji jumped to his feet, one long leg already shooting towards the infuriating green head. The air hissed as the kick passed over Zoro, who had quickly ducked and was now going for two of the swords at his waist.

A pair of chairs toppled to the ground as cook and swordsman quickly squared off, deadly swords and legs at the ready and anticipating smirks on both their faces. For a brief moment their eyes met, excitement and adrenaline pumping intoxicatingly through them, before a sudden, unexpected interruption halted the fight before it could really begin.

"Please don't fight with Roronoa-sama!"

Taken aback and a little irked at the untimely interruption, Sanji glanced around for its source, and was surprised to find the timid serving girl, Asuka, tugging urgently on his arm. Then realization struck. Damn it. He had been about to stoop to the shit-swordsman's level and actually start a fight in the small tavern.

Smiling gently at the quietly trembling girl, he assured her, "You're absolutely right, Asuka-chan. I'll make sure to take him outside first." He patted her head and turned once again, meeting his impatient opponent's eyes. "Outside," he said flatly.

Zoro's grin returned full force as he sheathed his weapons, turning on his heel and headed towards the door.

Sanji smiled at the two women seated at the table. "We'll be right back, ladies."

Robin just met his smile over the rim of her mug, her eyes twinkling, and Nami rolled her eyes with resignation.

"Remember what I said about not drawing attention to ourselves," she reminded him wearily.

"Yes, Nami-san! We'll be the picture of discretion!" he declared fervently then started towards the swordsman waiting at the door, only to find himself still captured by the tiny grip on his arm.

"Please don't fight that man!" the big brown eyes pleaded with him. "Don't you know he's a dangerous pirate? That's _Roronoa Zoro!_" she finished in a terrified whisper.

Frowning, Sanji crouched down and studied the girl in confusion. "I know who he is. He's one of my crewmates, so of course I know who he is."

The brown eyes widened farther, and his arm was softly released from its hold. "You're a pirate, too? You're a Strawhat pirate?" she breathed, shooting Sanji directly in his pride.

It was that _fucking_ poster, he just knew it. No one would ever recognize him as the 77 million Strawhat pirate with that ugly excuse for a drawing. It made him want to _scream._

But, hiding his frustration and wounded dignity, Sanji smiled at her, trying to keep his lips from twitching angrily. "My name's Sanji, Asuka-chan. Nice to meet you."

"_Sanji? _As in "_Blackleg" Sanji_? But…you don't look like the poster at all!"

Unable to bite back the growl that rose to his throat, Sanji clenched his teeth in anger, though he quickly stopped when he noticed the girl's frightened eyes. "Yes," he somehow managed to smile. "That's me." He hoped Zoro was up for a good, long fight, because he _really_ needed to kick someone's ass now, preferably a green-haired bastard of a swordsman's.

"O-oh," Asuka stammered, not meeting his eyes anymore. "I didn't think you… I mean, you were so nice, and I didn't recognize you…and you didn't look… I thought you weren't…" she trailed off, wringing her hands together.

"You thought I wasn't a pirate?" he finished for her quietly. He understood, now, why she hadn't been as afraid of him as she was the others. Her logic was…well, illogical, but he understood. And now that she had realized the obvious – that he was, in fact, a pirate, and not just well-mannered gentleman inexplicably hanging around them – she was beginning to be just as terrified as him as she was of the rest of the crew.

The young girl nodded her answer, tears welling up in her downcast eyes. "I should have guessed after I saw you this morning, and again when you came in to eat, but…you seemed too… nice to be a pirate." An embarrassed flush crept up to her face.

"You know," he said softly, standing and slipping a cigarette out of his pocket, "just 'cause I'm a pirate doesn't mean I'm not still nice." A wry smile crossed his lips as he stuck the cigarette between them, though he didn't light it yet. "But sorry to disappoint you. However, I can promise you that none of my nakama will hurt you while we're here, okay?"

The girl looked unconvinced, still staring down at her hands, but replied with a quiet, "Okay."

"Right." Sanji smiled down at the young girl. "Thanks for the food, Asuka-chan. It was very delicious. Did you make it?"

A quick, embarrassed nod answered him. "My brother did most of it, though. I just helped."

"Well, you did an excellent job helping."

Then, with one last smile, he turned and eagerly made his way to the waiting swordsman, the brief exchange with the girl already fading from his mind and rapidly being replaced with excitement. He had some marimo ass to kick.

Behind him, barely audible, came a soft admonition.

"Be careful."

* * *

AN: Thank you to everyone who's shown interest in this story! For those curious, expect updates about every four days.


	3. The Kid Named Asher

**Chapter 3**

_The Kid Named Asher_

* * *

Within the steamy interior of a small tavern's kitchen, a young teenage boy – an ordinary sort of boy, at that awkward stage of life when limbs look a little too long and clothes fit a little too short – was slouched against a counter and grumpily stirring a tall pot of stew with one hand, the other fisted and propping up his chin, the elbow digging into the lackluster counter.

Dark brown hair stuck out at funny angles all around his head, while a handful of tiny freckles were splattered across his pointed nose and narrow cheekbones - freckles so small they could only be seen from kissing-distance.

Not that Asher – for that was his name – had ever been kissed by anyone, except for the usual unpleasant, perfunctory kisses from his female family members. And for as long as he could remember, he had only had two girls in his family – his sickly, often bedridden aunt and his troublesome little sister.

His troublesome little sister, who at the moment was not helping his bad mood in the least.

All night, she had been carting dirty dishes in and brim-full dishes out with the same edgy, preoccupied expression on her face the entire time. To be honest – it was driving him completely bonkers.

Not that he shouldn't have been used to it. After all, it wasn't exactly unusual for his worry-wart of a sister to wander around with a puckered frown on her face, particularly since certain events from a week ago that had rocked their small family.

But he wasn't thinking about that now.

In fact, he hadn't been thinking about it at all for the past six days and five hours since it had happened.

Or he _wouldn't_ have thought about it all, if not for a certain sister who wouldn't stop reminding him of it just by the miserable sulk that followed her around wherever she went, constantly pushing the matter to the forefront of his mind. Honestly, it was like the girl was physically incapable of being cheerful. If she wasn't moping around in gloomy depression, then she was so worried and distracted that she was about as much use as a wickless candle.

With a nerve-grating creak, the kitchen door pushed open for the umpteenth time that night and Asher's younger sister slipped inside, an anxious frown on her face and her arms full of dirty bowls.

_What a surprise,_ Asher thought to himself, with no small amount of bitterness.

As usual, she didn't speak – didn't even glance his way – just shuffled up to the sink and dropped her load in the soapy, tepid water, making him wince when the ceramic clanged obnoxiously together. He waited, with a particularly vigorous stir of his wooden spoon, for her to drag herself back out the door into the dining area, or maybe get a head start on washing dishes like she often did this time of night when things began slowing down, but all she did was stand listless at the sink, hands brushing her sides.

After several tense moments during which she continued merely frowning down at the dirty dishes, he began to get impatient.

"Are you just going to stare at those or what?" he snapped edgily, accidently mashing a potato cube with his angry stirring.

Her persistent silence only irritated him further. He threw his spoon onto the counter and stomped over to the sink, picking up the rag and scrubbing viciously at the bowls. She just stood next to him, like a stupid statue, the anxious frown still creased into her face.

Despite himself, after a minute or so he felt his irritation began to fade a little (just a little – he was still rather peeved at her attitude all evening), tempered by his involuntary brotherly concern. His sister seemed much more preoccupied than she had earlier – if that was even possible – and he couldn't help but wonder if something had happened to further upset her.

_Which would be just my luck,_ he griped to himself.

Gingerly, he placed a soaped-up bowl into her hands, hoping she wouldn't drop it in her distraction, and was relieved when she automatically turned on the hot water to rinse it off.

"Alright," he began, washing the dishes a little less furiously now. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or what? Just spit it out, Asuka."

Her frown turned sadder as she placed the rinsed bowl on a spread-out towel next to the sink to dry. "Onii-san," she whispered quietly, "you remember the Strawhat pirates that are in town right now?"

He laughed. As if Asher could forget _that_ so easily – he practically idolized the captain and especially the first mate, two of the most infamous rookie pirates on the Grand Line. The fact that they were actually visiting _on his island_ had been the one good thing about this entire stupid week. He had been _almost_ devastated (if it wasn't such a sissy reaction, he would have been _completely _devastated) that he had missed out on seeing the pirate outside the tavern this morning, especially when it turned out to be _the_ demon swordsman Roronoa Zoro, but he was still absolutely determined to see the crew before they left, even if he had to jump off the cliffs to make it in time.

"Of course I remember, idiot."

"Well," Asuka continued with a soft voice, "they're eating dinner out in the tavern right now."

"WHAT?" Asher dropped the bowl he was scrubbing with a water-muted clatter. "Why didn't you tell me earlier, idiot?" He threw down his rag and raced toward the door, slowing reluctantly only when he heard a quiet sniffle behind him. He ground to a halt, his conscious warring desperately with itself.

Finally, his brotherly duty won, temporarily, and he grudgingly turned around and glared at the hunched form at the sink.

"Alright, _alright_. What's wrong, Asuka?" His glare softened slightly as he noticed tears pooling beneath her brown eyes.

"There was a man eating with the crew tonight – the man with Roronoa this morning," she sniffed. "And I thought he wasn't a pirate, and I really liked him, 'cause he was nice and all, but then I found out he was actually a pirate too." She dropped her head, her short bangs falling into her face and obscuring her upset eyes.

"_That's _what you're so sad about?" he asked, exasperated and a little incredulous. He was seriously getting sick of his sister's hang up about pirates, not to mention frustrated at the false alarm – though he really shouldn't have been so surprised, knowing how she tended to get worked up over nothing. "That doesn't mean anything, you sissy! It just means he's a pirate. Not all of them are bad, you twit." He rolled his eyes. "Figures you'd get so upset about finding out your little crush is a pirate."

"I didn't say I had a crush on him!" she insisted indignantly, glaring down at the counter, though Asher could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, belying her words. "And I'm not upset that he's a pirate! I mean, I am, but that's not why I'm worried." She glanced up, finally looking directly into her brother's eyes, their gazes meeting across the old kitchen. "I'm worried because he just went outside to fight Roronoa, and I'm afraid he'll get hurt!"

Asher's brain had frozen at the words "fight Roronoa".

"RORONOA IS GOING TO FIGHT SOMEONE OUTSIDE!" he yelled. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, idiot?"

He spun back around and launched himself out the kitchen door, excitement pumping through his veins. To hell with brotherly duty, this was a chance to watch the demon swordsman fight! Ignoring the fading calls of his sister, he dashed through the tavern and out into the night air, the front doors swinging wildly behind him.

However, disappointment clutched at his heart as he found the street empty of any fighting swordsman. But then, with a thrill of anticipation, he heard the faint rumble of unfamiliar voices from the alley between the tavern and the inn next door. He crept closer quickly and, peeking around the corner, had to stifle an embarrassingly girly gasp of excitement that threatened to escape.

He couldn't help it, though. There was _Roronoa Zoro_, infamous swordsman-cum-pirate worth much more than the tavern made in a good year. He easily recognized the man, even if all he could clearly see of him in the dim light of the alley was the gleam of teeth and swords and the muted white of his shirt. Eagerly, Asher ran his eyes over the two dangerous katana the pirate had out, one clenched in each hand, though all he was doing at moment was standing there grinning at his opponent.

Even less could be seen of the other man, who had his back to Asher and was almost swallowed up in the shadows that his black suit blended into so well. Not even the pale white of his hands could be seen, as one was tucked casually in his pocket and the other hidden in front of his body. The only relief from the darkness around him came from the soft shine of his blond hair in the moonlight. Then the blond moved his hidden hand slightly to the side, and Asher could see the red tip of a cigarette and a trail of smoke rise up into the night.

This was no doubt the pirate that his sap of a sister was so cut up about. Asher instantly disliked him.

He looked, even in the darkness of the alley, like a skinny weakling – definitely not the type fit to challenge Roronoa, which meant he was a fool for doing so – and a disgraceful, pansy of a pirate. Asher felt a flash of disappointment. This probably wasn't going to be a very interesting fight.

But it was still a pirate fight, even if one participant barely deserved to call himself such, so Asher held his breath and tried to keep quiet, wondering why they were just _standing there_ and why the blond didn't draw his weapons. Then, gradually, he realized he could he hear the light exhales of slow, shallow pants and belatedly understood that this was not the beginning of the fight, but a pause in the action.

"Alley's too small," breathed a voice, and Asher felt sure it had come from the blond man. It was light and cultured, just the sort of voice he'd imagine a suit-wearing prick would own, the sort of voice his sister would easily swoon over.

"Yeah," agreed a deeper, harsher voice, and Asher knew without a doubt that this one was Roronoa's. "But the witch said we couldn't fight in the street and let people see us."

"Asshole," the blond man said mildly, surprising the silent watcher. Asher would have guessed the suit-wearing man would have kept his language as clean as the rest of his pristine appearance. He shrugged the thought aside. The man was still obviously a wimp, no matter what kind of words came out of his mouth.

"I told you to not to call Nami-san that," the blond continued as he exhaled a stream of smoke towards Roronoa.

"I don't really give a shit," Roronoa growled unconcernedly, and Asher grinned when he saw the flash of metal as the swordsman adjusted his grip on his left sword. "I'm not done kicking your ass, so either deal with cramped space or admit I'm better than you."

"Hah," was the scornful reply. "I believe I was the one doing the ass-kicking, and you were the one waving your swords around like a blind monkey. The only hits you got in were on the building walls."

Again Asher was surprised, when all Roronoa did was chuckle darkly instead of instantly slicing the blond man to shreds. Was he just going to take that sort of insult? Asher settled for waiting and watching and being outraged for the swordsman's sake.

"Ready to go again, shit-cook? Or do you need a minute to catch your breath?"

"Just shut up and fight me already," the blond answered, and then launched himself at the swordsman.

Asher jumped about a foot in the air and nearly swallowed his tongue when he felt a heavy hand land on shoulder, pulling him away from the thrilling fight that was finally happening just around the corner.

"Dammit," he hissed, "lemme watch!" He struggled fiercely with the hand, trying to escape its firm grip, but it flipped him around with embarrassing ease. To his surprise, he found himself face-to-face with a huge man with ridiculously blue hair and a _speedo_, whom he had no trouble identifying as a member of the Strawhat crew.

The man squinted one suspicious eye as he peered down into Asher's scrunched up, scowling face.

"What are you doing sneaking around here, kiddo?"

"Nothing!" Asher huffed in a hushed whisper, trying to shrug off the broad hand that covered his entire shoulder. "Lemme go, I wanna watch!"

"Eh?" The man finally released his shoulder, only to shove him stumbling forwards and take his place at the alley's corner. "What are you watching, kid?" There was a pause as Asher's feet tripped over themselves, trying to regain their footing, and the Strawhat pirate stuck his head down the alley in a frustratingly obvious manner.

"Stop it," Asher spat, tugging on the man's thick forearm once the ground was stable beneath him once again. "If they see you they'll stop, then I'll never get to see Roronoa fight!"

A loud breath of laughter burst from the blue-haired pirate. "Believe me, kid, when I tell you that almost nothing's going to stop those two once they've started."

Asher, still pulling at the man's arm, suddenly felt his stomach flop in unpleasant surprise as he was hefted completely off the ground and thrown over a broad shoulder. He could only dangle there, blinking in shock as the pirate ferried him away from the alley and back to where the light was spilling out of the tavern's windows.

When he finally realized what was happening, he was already being dropped back to the ground, stumbling back a few steps in a useless attempt to stay upright, before landing hard on his butt in the dirt. He scrambled to his feet in a flash, ignoring the throbbing pain from his fall. However, before he could get even a step back towards the alley, he found himself caught by two thick fingers pinching the back of his shirt.

"What's your problem, dickhead? I wanna watch!" He wiggled and twisted as hard as he could, but nothing would loosen the grip keeping him in place. Finally he spun around and glared at the pirate, causing his shirt to twist up awkwardly, revealing a strip of his pale stomach.

The pirate just chuckled again, making Asher want to slam his fist in the stupid grinning face.

So he did…and nearly shattered his hand. What was that man's face _made _of?

He cradled the hand to his chest, covering it with his other hand as he bit his lip hard to keep himself from whimpering, or making some other sissy-weak sound. Embarrassing tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away.

Punching a pirate was definitely not the smartest thing he'd ever done, but since when had he ever let his brain work before his temper? Besides, he'd never been the type to take anything lying down – dangerous pirate or no.

"Whoa, you okay there, boy?" The huge man crouched down, his grip moving from the back of Asher's shirt back to his shoulder, and peered at the wounded hand. Or tried to, at least. Before he could get a good look, Asher stubbornly whipped it behind his back, ignoring the burst of pain that shot through it at the quick movement.

"Easy there, I'm not going to hurt it, you stupid kid. Just calm down a minute, okay? I just wanna look at it." The man wrapped his hand completely around Asher's forearm and relentlessly pulled the hand back out of hiding. He held it right in front of his face, squinting hard.

"Stop it! And stop calling me a kid!" Asher tried twisting his arm out of the tight grip, gritting his teeth as the thrashing jarred his injury, but was completely ignored as the man studied the hand. "It doesn't hurt!" he insisted impatiently, even as his fruitless struggling sent a spear of hot pain through his hand. "I just wanna go watch the fight! What if one of them dies and I don't get to see it?" Not that he thought it would be Roronoa dying.

The pirate's gaze darted from his hand to his face, his dark eyes amused as he studied the boy's fuming expression.

"Morbid little guy, aren't you? Listen kid," he continued, wholly disregarding Asher's ferocious glare, "I know those two a hell of a lot better than you, and neither of the them are gonna die during a fight with each other. Sorry, kiddo. They fight together more often than you take a piss. Got it? So just let those idiots finish blowing off some steam. Now hold still and let me look at this."

Asher found himself feeling distinctly disappointed that this wasn't a fight to the death, though that didn't lessen his zeal to watch at all. But it made sense now that he knew it wasn't a real fight; that scrawny blond would probably be dead in seconds if it was, and this explained why he wasn't currently lying in a mangled heap at the back of the alley.

"So those two know each other?" he asked, abandoning his struggle against the pirate's grip for the moment in favor of getting some answers. Besides, his hand was actually hurting pretty badly, and all the wiggling around certainly wasn't getting him anywhere. "Who's the blond guy?"

"You don't recognize him?" For some reason, the blue-haired pirate was grinning at him with a big, stupid smile. Asher resisted the urge to punch the grin off his face, remembering how well that went last time.

"Why would I recognize him, baka-pirate? I barely even saw anything before you dragged me away! And let go of my hand now, jerk-off!"

The pirate let go, but the stupid smile stayed where it was, as did the hand on Asher's shoulder. Asher brought his injured hand up to his mouth and sucked, right below his pinky finger where the pain and swelling were the worst.

The man stood, grinning down at the scowling boy. "Cook-bro's gonna be pretty unhappy you couldn't recognize him," he chuckled, confusing Asher though he hid it beneath a mask of belligerence. "Alright, listen up, kid. Your hand is swollen up pretty nice, and I think it might be broken. Is there a doctor in town?"

Asher scowled and twisted impatiently under the heavy hand pinning him where he was. At this rate, the fight was going to be over by the time the blue-haired pirate let him go.

The pirate just tightened his grip, almost painfully, and squinted one eye at him, raising an eyebrow and waiting for his answer.

"Franky?" a new voice interrupted before Asher could speak, calling from the tavern door. "Did you find Zoro and Sanji yet? Nami wants to leave before Luffy gets into any trouble." Footsteps muted in the loose dirt, then a new, considerably smaller figure was standing next to the pirate Franky.

Asher almost choked when he saw the older boy's face. That had to be the most impossibly long nose he had ever seen. The guy probably had enough nose for three people, and then some left over.

He remembered one of the Strawhat posters was a guy with a long nose, though it had been all taped up and the pirate was wearing some sort of freaky mask. Asher figured this was probably the same guy.

"Oi, Franky, what's with the kid?" the curly-haired newcomer asked, jamming his hands into the pockets of his overalls as he frowned at Asher.

"Don't call me a kid!" Asher scowled back. "I'm almost fifteen!" In eleven more months, but that was unimportant.

"Alright, kid," the long-nosed guy smiled condescendingly.

"SHUT UP!"

"Franky! Where'd those two idiots go?" another new voice, this one feminine and slightly angry, interrupted. "We're going back to the ship now!"

Asher saw three more people spill out of the tavern and join the group outside. Two were women, one with bright orange hair and an irritated scowl, the other with dark locks and a calm expression, with just a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Both part of the Strawhat crew, though he couldn't remember their names at the moment.

Because it was the boy who held Asher's interest. Easily recognized by the trademark hat resting on top his dark hair and the foolish grin spread across his face, this was no doubt Strawhat Luffy, the pirate worth 300 million beli.

"Hey guys!" the captain called out cheerfully. "Who's this?" he asked, eyeing Asher with a happy grin.

"This is the stupid k-"

"I'm Asher, and I'm not a kid," he butted in before Franky could finish, as his eyes almost greedily scanned over the infamous pirate. He didn't look like much – was barely even taller than Asher – but there must be something special about him. After all, Roronoa seemed content to follow him, and he was a freaking _monster_. Not to mention, Strawhat was worth an insanely large amount for a rookie and had led his crew in _and out _Enies Lobby without losing a single member. There must be _something_ behind the goofy grin and lean build.

"Hi there! I'm Luffy!" the pirate grinned even wider. "Nice to meet you! So, not-kid Asher, what are you doing out here in the dark?"

"Breaking his hand," the blue-haired pirate muttered.

Asher scowled.

"I'm-"

CRASH!

Behind Asher, the crunch of bricks tumbling to the ground interrupted him, and he whirled around to find the source of the disturbance. A cloud of dust, directly across the street from the alley, slowly settled back down to the ground, and he could vaguely make out the shape of someone stepping out of the rubble.

"Zoro!" the boy captain next to Asher called. "There you are! We're going back to Sunny now!"

"Gah! I said no making a scene!" the orange-haired woman yelled furiously. "How hard is that for you numbskulls to understand?"

Roronoa, a shark-like grin across his features and his eyes locked on the dark alley across from him, just shook the remaining debris off his shoulders and spat out something that looked a lot like blood. Asher held his breath excitedly. _Finally_ he'd get to see the man in action! Although, how that skinny blond pansy had managed to send Roronoa into the wall was a mystery. He figured it was probably a fluke.

Then the blond in question stepped out of the shadows of the alley, facing Roronoa with a smirk of his own wrapped around his cigarette. He looked in much better health than Asher would have guessed after a fight with the demon swordsman, serious or not, but at least his fancy suit had gotten considerably dirtier. In fact, he looked like he had been knocked flat on his back; the entire back of his suit was covered in dirt and dust, his hair was badly mussed, and he had smudge of brown against a pale jaw.

"Fucking asshole," the blond growled, though his smirk stayed. "I told you not to get my suit dirty."

"Che. Sorry, _princess_. Maybe you should just stop wearing those prissy suits if you don't want them to get dirty," Roronoa tossed back, swords at the ready.

Any further banter was promptly stopped, however, as the captain practically flew at the blond man and wrapped himself around the slim frame.

"Sanji! Will you make me some meat when we get back? Soup and rolls don't fill me up! Please?"

"Oi! Damn it, Luffy, get off me!"

As the blond man struggled with the pleading captain, Asher was putting a few things together in his mind.

Sanji… the name sounded awfully familiar… Where had he heard it…?

Wait! That man was "Blackleg" Sanji? Huh. He really didn't look anything like what Asher could remember of his ugly poster. Besides, how could a man worth 77 million look like such a wimp? And why would he be fighting with one of his own crewmembers? That other pirate, Franky, had said it happened all the time, too.

Asher shook his head, giving up on trying to make sense of things. Pirates were confusing.

_Really confusing,_ he amended as he watched the man supposedly worth 300 million clinging tightly to his blond nakama and whining for meat.

"Oi, who's the kid?" Roronoa, apparently recognizing that his opponent would be occupied for a while, had sheathed his swords and was strolling over the group gathered outside the tavern doors, his intense gaze turned directly on Asher.

Asher tried not to gulp, completely intimidated, or let his face stretch into a shit-eating, excited grin. Both seemed dangerously close to happening.

"Says his name's Asher, and he's not a kid," the long-nosed guy answered, and Asher really didn't like the chortle that punctuated the statement but was too overwhelmed at the moment to do anything about it – trapped by a pair of piercing black eyes.

"Really?" Roronoa smirked, the expression causing his eyes to narrow, but he didn't say anything more, just turned his intense gaze away from Asher to where the blond pirate, Sanji, was trying to scrape off his clinging passenger.

Asher's lungs began working again.

When he heard a voice right at his ear, he jumped like someone had stabbed him with a fork.

"Asher-kun?" It was the dark-haired woman, leaning down and looking over his shoulder. "Is your hand injured?"

Oh yeah. It was actually throbbing pretty badly, now that he thought about it.

"Erm…" he covered his hurt hand with the other and tried to fight the unreasonable blush he felt rising to his cheeks from having the woman's dark, calm eyes directed at him.

"I think he broke it when he tried to punch me," Franky answered the woman with a grin.

Well _that_ got everyone's attention on him fast. Asher felt his blush grow hotter as all eyes turned to him, even the monkey-like captain's.

"Eh? Why'd you punch Franky?" the pirate asked from where he was currently wrapped around the blond's leg, who used the distraction to shake the captain off into the dirt and stride over casually to the rest of the group.

"'Cause he was being a stupid dickhead!" Asher declared loudly, if a little shakily, feeling rather proud for being brave enough to say that while surrounded by the dickhead's infamous crew – including Roronoa.

It didn't get quite the reaction he was expecting.

The entire crew, even the dickhead pirate, burst into laughter, ranging from loud guffaws to quiet, dainty chuckles.

"Stop laughing at me!" he shouted angrily. What was these pirates' problem, anyway? Didn't they know how pirates were supposed to act? What kind of crew took that sort of shit from a fourteen-year-old boy, anyway?

"You're funny, kid." The captain got back to his feet, brushing off dirt and adjusting his hat. "I like you."

Asher just stared at the grinning pirate. He didn't know what to make of this crew. Were they really pirates? Could they _really_ be the pirates who had taken on Enies Lobby and lived? In Asher's experience, the higher a crew's collective bounty (and therefore the stronger and more powerful they were), the less tolerant they were, especially to kids like him.

That wasn't to say he _wanted_ them to get pissed at him…but still. It was bizarre.

"Alright guys! Let's go back. Hey kid, are you going to be okay?" It was the orange-haired woman, glancing at him with just a hint of concern.

"Um, yeah," he stammered, his brain still stuck in surprise.

"Doesn't look that way to me," a voice at his side murmured, and his wrist was taken in a surprisingly gentle hand as the skinny blond pirate crouched next to him, bringing along the unmistakable scent of sharp cigarette smoke. "It looks pretty swollen. Is there a doctor in town?"

"Um…" Asher found himself gazing in a shockingly blue eye, as deep and unreadable as the ocean. "Th-there's one on the other side of the island. Our town's too small for its own doctor."

"Guess we'll just have to take him to Chopper and let him look at it," Roronoa sighed, one hand resting lightly on the swords at his hip, the fingers tapping quietly.

Asher felt his heart jump in excitement at the thought of going somewhere with the pirate crew, but he was vaguely concerned about letting someone named "Chopper" near his hand. And now that he thought about it, wasn't "Chopper" the name of the Strawhat's pet raccoon-looking thing? Why'd they want their pet to look at his hand?

"Who's Chopper?" he asked, deciding it'd be better to just clear the matter up now.

"Chopper's our doctor." The blond released his wrist and straightened up next to him. "Damn good one, too." With a careless toss, the man's cigarette dropped into the dirt and was ground slowly out beneath his heel.

"Are your parents nearby?" the orange-haired woman asked him briskly. "Would they have a problem with you going with us to get your hand fixed up? We can't really afford to be accused of kidnapping you, or something."

"Uh…" Asher began articulately, still trying to figure out if this Chopper guy was the pet from the wanted poster or not. "Parents? Oh, I, um, live with my uncle. And he probably wouldn't have a problem with me going with you, but I'm supposed to be washing dishes right now. In fact," he added somewhat guiltily, "I kinda ran out on my sister and left them all with her."

The blond _tsk_ed almost imperceptibly and the captain chuckled and asked, "Well, you can't wash any dishes with that hand now, right? So you can come with us! Yay, this'll be fun! Let's go!"

"Hold it!" the orange-haired woman cut in firmly before Asher could do anything but stand there, bewildered. "You can't just do stuff like this, Luffy! First you need to ask Asher-kun if _he's_ okay with going, then he needs to go ask his uncle so we don't get angry townspeople after us, saying we kidnapped him."

"Well?" Luffy turned an expectant expression on him.

"Well what?" Asher asked, trying to keep up with this unorthodox pirate crew.

"Do you want to come get your hand fixed up, or course!"

"What?"

The blond pirate cut it, pointing to the tavern, "Is your uncle the man working the bar in there?"

"Huh? I mean, yeah," he corrected automatically.

"Right. I'll be right back." And with that, the pansy blond sauntered away and back through the tavern doors.

"Alright," Strawhat Luffy cheered. "Sanji will go talk to your uncle, then you can come down to Sunny with us! Yes!"

Asher was beginning to feel swept away by the force of this undeniably unconventional crew, rather like a towering wave that crashed into him and pushed him mercilessly where it wanted to go. All he could do was hang on and allow himself to be carried away.

Suddenly Roronoa was at his side, his lazily intense eyes glancing down at him, restricting his breath. "Listen kid, all you have to say is whether or not you're okay coming down to our ship. Our doctor's waiting there, and he can take a look at your hand. It hurts, right?"

Pretty much all Asher had heard was "okay coming down to our ship", which really didn't take any thought at all. Besides, like he'd turn _Roronoa_ down!

"Hell yeah, I want to go to your ship!"

He glanced around and saw the crew all smiling at him, the captain chuckling through his grin.

Asher decided unorthodox was okay with him.

Then the blond pirate was back, saying in a business-like manner, "The uncle's okay with it. He just said to be back in time for breakfast tomorrow."

"Alright!" cried the Strawhat captain, grin firmly in place. "Let's go!"

And so Asher, helpless to resist the unstoppable force of the Strawhat crew (and why would he _want_ to resist?), went.


	4. The Mystery Pulley

**Chapter 4**

_The Mystery Pulley_

* * *

Zoro was bored.

Bored and a little pissed that his fight had ended so prematurely – honestly, they had barely drawn any blood and hadn't even caused any major property damage yet. It was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on your dick in the middle of a wank.

And to make matters worse, it seemed as though Luffy had picked up yet another stray, this time in the form of a barely pubescent kid whose balls were probably still deciding whether or not they wanted to drop.

Luckily, Zoro had long since stopped worrying about the crazy shit Luffy did. He knew Luffy would always do exactly whatever the hell he wanted, and there was no point freaking out about it. Besides, it wasn't like all that much could happen just from taking some brat down to the ship to get his hand fixed up. Probably actually score them points with the townspeople.

In any case, Zoro was bored. Tomorrow wasn't looking like a very promising day either. Not only was he apparently out of money for sake (damn Nami) he also had been roped into accompanying that dorky cook shopping (damn, _damn Nami_) where he'd be forced to follow him around, carry the food, and watch him flirt like an idiot with anything human and female.

What the hell. There wasn't much he could do about any of that at this point, so why worry?

So Zoro trudged along in the darkness with his nakama plus one, towards that narrow cliff path that probably wasn't the smartest trail to climb down in the black of night (Zoro would've been worried about Luffy's safety, if the kid wasn't made out of fucking rubber), pushing any worries out of his mind (they went without complaint, as always) and focused instead on that unmistakable prickling feeling that had been following him ever since they left the tavern.

He'd felt it too many times to not know what it was. It was the feeling of someone watching him… Or more specifically, watching them.

Not that it worried him, really. He just wanted to figure out who the hell it was so he could force them to stop making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He hated that feeling. It made him irritated.

At first he thought it was that kid they picked up – Basher, or something – because of the blatant way he had glued his eyes to Zoro (really, it was like he wasn't even _trying_ to be subtle), but had quickly decided that the kid's respectful, bordering on worshipful attitude instantly ruled him out. The prickling feeling had a distinctly hostile edge, so unless the kid was secretly plotting to murder Zoro, it most likely wasn't coming from him.

Which meant it was coming from somewhere else. The problem was, the only other people around were all his nakama (and while Zoro had no problem believing Sanji was capable of extreme hostility towards him, Zoro had been staring at the back of the blond head the whole way out of town, watching him flirt like an idiot at both Nami and Robin, so he knew it wasn't coming from the cook). As such, he was forced to conclude that someone was following them, and wasn't that just as annoying as hell?

Honestly, if they were going to try assaulting the crew they should just hurry up and get it over with, instead of this irritating sneaking-around business. Zoro would have just attacked their cling-on and taken care of the matter without all this fuss, but he, frustratingly, couldn't figure out where their hidden watcher was concealing himself.

Apparently, this stalker of theirs was pretty good at one thing: not being found. No matter how carefully Zoro kept an eye peeled on the road behind them, no matter how much or how intently he listened for the sound of unfamiliar footsteps, he couldn't find a trace of their mysterious guest.

It was really getting on Zoro's nerves.

Damn follower who didn't have the guts to attack them in any sort of straightforward manner, instead creeping around and making the hairs on Zoro's neck stand up.

Asshole.

"Um…excuse me?" a quiet voice at his shoulder politely broke into his thoughts, which at this point had mostly descended into pointless griping over their elusive follower. The voice belonged to the kid they'd picked up, who was staring up at him with a curious mixture of hopefulness, excitement, and barely-there wariness.

"Yeah?" he grunted back. "What's up, kid?" Belatedly, Zoro remembered the kid saying he didn't _like_ being called a kid, but the boy didn't even seem to notice this time.

The kid darted his eyes about inquisitively, taking in their surroundings. At the moment, they were just reaching the outskirts of town; the houses were thinning, trees were becoming a much more common sight, and the edge of the cliffs was now in view, just a stone's throw away. Zoro could already feel the brisk night breeze playfully ruffling his hair and bringing with it the briny scent of the sea.

"Is your ship at the bottom of the cliffs, by that long strip of sand?" the kid asked curiously, his dark eyes wide and shining as they met Zoro's.

"Um…" Zoro stalled. To be honest, he didn't really remember where they left the Sunny. No wait – he remembered a narrow beach where they had left the Mini Merry, right beneath the cliff path. "Yeah," he decided, with slightly smug satisfaction. "That's where we are."

"Oh." The kid looked puzzled for a moment, then asked, "So why are we going this way? It's not the right way."

For once, Zoro could safely say this wasn't in any way his fault. He had been at the very back of the crew, with just the kid by his side, so there was absolutely no way he could be blamed for getting the crew lost, if they were indeed lost.

In fact, the cook was the one in front. Zoro made a mental note to make fun of Sanji about it later. Or even better, he'd just do it now.

"Oi, shit- cook!" he called, a hand cupped around his already smirking mouth. "You're taking us the wrong way! I'd think even a dumbass like you would be able to find his way back to his own ship," he mocked, easily forgetting his own misadventure earlier that morning. "Maybe if you watched where you were taking us instead of bothering the girls with your annoying flirting…" he trailed off deliberately, waiting for the cook's reaction.

This was sure to be good.

For a moment, the only acknowledgement the blond gave was an instant, annoyed tension that bunched up his shoulders. Then he spun around, eyes blazing and teeth bared. Heh. The cook was so easy to rile up. Almost too easy, sometimes, but that was what made him so much fun.

"What are you talking about, you shitty broccoli-head?" the cook growled, his tone dangerously even. "Are you confusing me with yourself? You're the one who can't find his way out of a room with one door, not me."

The rest of the crew slowed to a stop as well, familiar looks of resignation on most of their faces.

Zoro thought he heard Usopp grumble, "Here they go again," but he ignored the sniper. It wasn't like Usopp had anything important to say, anyway, and Zoro would rather watch the cook as he got unreasonably pissed as hell, like usual.

"And how would you know, anyway?" Sanji continued his bitching with equal disregard for their audience. "Weren't you the one I had to track down this morning like a little lost kid because you _couldn't find your way back to the ship_?"

Zoro snorted in amusement. "Well, this kid here says we're going the wrong way," he stated simply, calmly, jabbing his thumb at the boy at his side. "And since he lives here, it sorta makes me think he'd know where he's going." He let his smirk grow even wider then, knowing that it got the blond worked up faster than anything.

Sure enough, the cook was immediately bristling, but he turned his glare to the unsuspecting kid beside Zoro.

"Asher? What do you mean 'we're going the wrong way'? The ship's right there!" He threw an arm out towards the cliff edge only a few yards away, pointing down towards the black waves of the ocean, where the strong lines of the Sunny were visible even in the darkness. "You can clearly see the ship there, at the bottom of the cliffs!" he declared, in a mixture of annoyance and self-righteousness.

Zoro scowled, wishing he had noticed that earlier. Stupid kid.

Sanji all but stuck his tongue out in his childish gratification at apparently being right.

Then the kid spoke up again, scowling at Sanji with a glare Zoro wouldn't have been ashamed of. "_Obviously_ it's right there. But if you go this way, you have to climb down that tiny trail no one's used since my _grandma_ was a kid."

Zoro grinned. Maybe this kid wasn't so bad.

Sanji's smug smile instantly disappeared, replaced with a puzzled frown.

Nami swiftly cut in. "But the mayor said this was the only way up the cliffs. _Right, Sanji_?" she asked, her tone treacherously pleasant. Zoro remembered how much she'd whined about climbing up the side of the cliff, and he knew if she found out Sanji had screwed up she wouldn't be merciful. Zoro just wished he had a bottle of sake to enjoy with the show.

"Of course, Nami-san!" Sanji stammered out, his hands outstretched out in front of himself pleadingly. "He said the only way to town was up that trail! You can ask Chopper when we get to the ship!"

Now it was the kid's turn to wear a puzzled frown. "That's weird," he muttered, scratching distractedly at his shoulder. "'Cause there's a really easy pulley car system about a quarter-mile south of here that everybody in town uses nowadays. It makes no sense that the mayor wouldn't tell you about it, 'cause it's way faster than trying to climb up and down the trail."

The frown washed away then, and the kid wore a look of enlightenment instead. "You definitely misheard," he decided with absolute certainty, and Zoro appreciated the condescending self-righteousness the kid managed to say it with.

Sanji, apparently, didn't share Zoro's appreciation.

"Like hell, I misheard!" he exploded. "Are you as stupid as that idiot swordsman? Your mayor obviously lied to us!"

"Oh yeah?" the kid threw back just as hotly. "Why the hell would he lie to you, dickhead? You're just trying to cover up that you made a mistake! You're the one lying!"

Zoro instantly took back anything negative he had thought about the kid, or Luffy. Bringing him along had _definitely_ been a great idea. In fact, as he watched the cook's eyes blaze brighter, he thought he might even consider taking the kid under his wing. Anyone with such a talent for winding the cook up deserved to have it nurtured.

"Easy," Franky muttered, grinning, his hand clasped bracingly on Sanji's shoulder, which was probably the only thing keeping the cook from committing child murder.

Not that Zoro would have let him get away with it. This kid was too much fun.

"Perhaps," Robin's even, sensible voice cut in, "we should discuss this later, on the ship. "It is getting late, and we don't want to take too much of Asher-kun's time."

And just like that, Sanji instantly cooled down, immediately going back to making a complete idiot of himself.

"Of course, Robin-chan!" the blond cook crooned, and the idiot's voice grated irritatingly on Zoro's nerves.

Zoro scowled.

He felt slightly better when he heard the kid next to him mutter, "_Pansy_."

"Alright," Luffy decided, his usual grin in place and a hand clasped to his hat, keeping it from being snatched away by the chilly sea wind. "Let's go see the mystery pulley!"

"Um…" The kid had a confused crease in his forehead. "It's not really a mystery pulley. It's just a couple of ropes and a wooden car thing. You stand in the car and pull one of the ropes, and it takes you to the bottom of the cliffs in like four minutes. It's _much_ faster and easier than the trail," he finished with a very unsubtle leer at Sanji, who unfortunately didn't notice due to the stupid way he was currently fawning over Robin, trying to get her to wear his suit jacket to block the nippy breeze.

"Right," Luffy agreed, just as firmly as before. "It's a mystery pulley."

The kid opened his mouth, frowned, then closed it again – a typical reaction to Luffy.

"Okay…" he said eventually. "Follow me. I'll take you to the…mystery pulley." Then the kid turned a quarter-turn on his heel and starting heading south along the cliff's edge, not bothering to check over his shoulder to see if the pirate crew was following.

"Yes!" Luffy cheered, trotting enthusiastically after the kid, and everyone else casually fell in behind him.

Sanji, whose solicitous attentions to Robin had since been slyly fobbed off, was now irritating the navigator with protestations of his innocence concerning the whole mess with the mayor as they walked together.

"Nami-san, I swear that's what he said! He said the trail was the only way up the cliffs, I promise! We can ask Chopper when we get back!"

It was pitiful, in Zoro's opinion.

"I don't care," Nami's sharp voice sliced through the air. "Either you misheard, misunderstood, or you didn't notice he was lying to you. Any way you look at it, it's your fault. That means I'm withholding your allowance at the next island."

"Of course! Whatever Nami-san thinks is best!"

Zoro snorted in disgust. Pitiful. The cook always let women walk all over him, particularly a certain red-haired navigator.

"Do you know how sore my feet were after climbing up that trail?" Nami kept ranting. "I should withhold your allowance for the next _two_ islands!"

"I'm so sorry, Nami-san!" the cook practically wailed. "It's unforgivable!"

Zoro wondered if Nami remembered that she had hardly even had to do any climbing, considering the fact that Sanji had carried her more than three-fourths the way up the cliff.

Stupid cook.

For a moment, Zoro was too busy being disgusted with the cook's pathetic behavior that he didn't notice the tingling sensation of being watched was conspicuously absent. Then it gradually occurred to him that the hairs on the back of his neck had calmed down and that he no longer felt the silent hostility from their elusive shadow.

It seemed whoever was following them must have left them alone. About time.

With nothing to distract him now, Zoro let his mind begin breaking down the latest fight with Sanji, analyzing it, scrutinizing the details so he'd know what to focus on during his next training session. He obviously wasn't strong enough yet if the cook had so easily sent him flying into the wall. Of course, Zoro suspected it had something to do with the fact that he had just knocked Sanji flat on his back, getting dirt all over his pristine suit (the cook was always the most fun to fight when he was being pissy and throwing a fit), but that really was no excuse.

He'd just have to work harder.

Zoro was definitely adding five thousand more reps to his workout from now on. And maybe it was time to lift with the heavier weights – fifteen tons just wasn't cutting it for him anymore.

While his brain was so occupied with thoughts of training, he _almost_ didn't notice that the rest of the group had stopped and was gathered at the edge of the cliff, peering over.

"Where are you going, idiot? Dumbass… We're here. Stop walking."

Zoro didn't think it worth his time to point out that he would have noticed before he got too far away (probably). So he just rolled his eyes before settling his features into their customary scowl and leaned against a tree, arms crossed loosely against his chest.

Everyone else seemed to be examining this pulley system the kid had mentioned. Franky in particular was eyeing it with interest, though Zoro couldn't see what was so fascinating about it. It was a wooden box and a rope. Amazing.

"How much weight can it hold?" Nami was asking in her typical witchy, no-nonsense manner, while Luffy was already laughing and climbing all over the pulley car like a sugared-up monkey.

"Er…" the kid scratched his shoulder, "It can take fifteen people at once," he announced. Then, with a frown in Franky's direction, amended, "Fifteen _normal_ people."

Usopp, crouched at the cliff's edge, had a distinctly unhappy look on his face as he examined the wooden box supposed to carry them to the bottom of the cliffs. The car was covered, the top being level with the edge of the cliff. A rope ladder hung from the car roof, evidently the means for entering and exiting the car. A double pulley system was attached by a metal rod to the cliff's face, with a strong hook snaring the top of the car.

Sanji was at the edge as well, his polished poise back and a new cigarette clamped loosely between his lips. He once again looked the epitome of sophisticated elegance, as though he hadn't been flipping out at a kid just five minutes ago. But then, that was Sanji – effortlessly phasing between untouchable coolness and throwing a hissy fit.

"I vote we go down in groups," Usopp spoke up earnestly. "I don't want to end up snapping the ropes or something equally terrifying."

"It should be able to take all of us just fine, sniper-kun," Robin stated calmly, her eyes roving over the car and pulley. "And if the rope snaps, the fall will kill you instantly."

Usopp turned a shade paler and tossed a frightened glance up at the impassive woman beside him. "That doesn't make me feel better, Robin…"

"We're wasting time," Nami's voice snapped sharply. "Everyone get in. Luffy, if you don't stop messing with those ropes, I'll make sure you don't have any teeth left to eat meat with."

Luffy immediately froze and tried to make himself look as innocent as possible.

Zoro watched as everyone obediently clambered down into the car, then hopped in easily himself, not bothered by the way his jump sent the car swinging wildly away from the cliff. The rest of the crew seemed a bit bothered, however, especially as the wooden car compensated by swinging back towards the rock wall, seemingly intent on connecting with an undoubtedly damaging smash.

Not that there was any danger of that, of course. Before it could smack into the wall, Sanji had braced one foot against the rocks and steadied the swaying and twisting car, muttering under his breath ("_Idiot_") and rolling his eyes.

Nami sent Zoro a glare and looked like she wanted to start screeching at him, but Zoro brushed her off by tugging the rope hanging down next to him, sending the car on its way down the cliff.

"This is so cool!" Luffy said enthusiastically, leaning over the edge of the car and watching as the far-away cliff's base got gradually closer. "A mystery pulley!"

"Um…not really," Usopp corrected, who really should have learned by now that there was no helping Luffy. "You see, when you pull on that section of the rope, it feeds through the pulley and makes _that_ part longer, which takes the car down away from cliff. If you pulled on that other part of the rope over there, it would work in reverse and make the car go up. It's quite simple, actually. Then if you-"

"Ah," Luffy interrupted wisely, with a sage nod. "A mystery pulley."

Usopp gave up and went back to standing in the middle of the car and trying very hard to pretend he wasn't dangling off the edge of a cliff in a wooden box supported solely by a couple of measly ropes.

Zoro, meanwhile, was testing how fast he could make the car descend while keeping the ride smooth and steady. The rope dug into his hands a little, but they were well-callused from his katana so he barely even felt it. Besides, it was like training, making his hands stronger.

"You're going too fast," the cook suddenly spoke after about half a minute of silent descent, frowning over at Zoro. "We're not going to be able to stop at the bottom. Slow down," he ordered bossily.

Zoro, of course, rolled his eyes and ignored the cook. Then he moved his hands even faster.

"I believe cook-san may be right," Robin said, which predictably sent the blond idiot into a flurry of delight. "If we continue at our current speed, the car will likely smash before we can slow it sufficiently."

The swordsman worked his hands a little faster.

"Zoro, slow down!" the curly-haired coward in the center of the car insisted, on the edge of being hysterical.

Zoro ignored him, instead keeping an eye on the quickly approaching ground.

Forty feet.

"Zoro!" Usopp squealed.

Thirty-five feet.

"Zoro!" Nami warned, her hair already blowing upwards and whipping around her face.

Thirty feet.

"Faster!" Luffy laughed.

Twenty-five.

"Maybe you should slow down, Zoro-bro," Franky commented, only the barest hint of concern in his voice.

Twenty.

"Um…Roronoa-sama…!" the kid called over the noisy sound of air rushing past, clearly unable to stop himself, his knuckles white on the car railing.

Fifteen.

"Ahhh!" Usopp had kept his eyes screwed shut for the past twenty-five feet.

Ten.

Eight.

Five.

Zoro suddenly clutched the rope as tightly as possible in both fists, and the car's downward descent immediately jerked to a dead stop. There was complete silence as the car rocked back and forth in a rather anticlimactic sway.

A collective sigh of relief went up throughout the car.

Idiots. He'd obviously had it under control, and this way they got to the bottom much quicker than if they'd gone at a sissy, slow pace. Besides, it was good training.

That was when Zoro felt a hard shoe connect painfully with the back of his head. White stars burst behind his eyes momentarily as he was sent careening over the edge of the railing and down the few remaining feet, finally sprawling ungracefully on the sand. A few moments later he heard the creak of ropes and a muted thud when the car landed softly next to him, and, as he moodily got back to his feet, he saw the cook swinging himself out of the car and landing smoothly on the beach beside Zoro.

"Dumbass marimo," Sanji muttered, then brushed past Zoro to begin strolling down the beach, hands in pockets and head cocked towards the soothing waves.

…Asshole.

* * *

AN: Thank you all you lovely, lovely people who have reviewed. It makes me feel all silly and giggly inside.


	5. Cookies, Smoke, and Sea

**Chapter Five**

_Cookies, Smoke, and Sea_

* * *

Asher, Sanji observed, was a gangly sort of youth, who looked like his body had just hit a growth spurt and still thought it should be five inches shorter. Awkward, not used to his own body – in a way, it reminded Sanji of his own early teenage years. Though Sanji had always worn his body with his usual easy grace, no matter what age, and this kid couldn't quite seem to get the knack of coordinating his too-long limbs with the rest of his body. But Sanji remembered what it was like to wake up one day and suddenly realize that, once again, all your clothes were two inches too short.

This might have made Sanji feel slightly sympathetic, a little understanding towards their guest, if it hadn't been for the kid's personality.

It was like having another idiot marimo around – but in miniature and without the green hair and obsessive training-induced muscles.

The kid hadn't even been on the ship for a full minute, and he was already strutting around like that damn swordsman. Not to mention he'd seemed to have taken an immediate and inexplicable dislike to Sanji and didn't even try to disguise the hostile glances he threw at him.

The worst part was that Asher seemed to worship the ground Zoro walked on, which had only added to the bastard's already swelled ego, and Zoro certainly didn't do anything to discourage the attention.

Sanji wanted to kick the satisfied smirk right off Zoro's face. He settled for lighting up a cigarette.

Meanwhile, Asher had taken to exploring around on the grassy deck, his bright eyes betraying the child-like eagerness he was clearly trying to hide beneath his confident swagger and unyielding youthful pride. It would have been almost endearing if the young teen hadn't been such an annoying, swordsman-worshipping pain in the ass.

Usopp was at the boy's side, graciously showing Asher around with a proud smile while Luffy perched on the ship's railing, grinning (of course) and throwing his own excited comments in occasionally.

Zoro, the irritating bastard, was leaning against the rail next to Luffy, an indulgent smirk on his face. Usually, the swordsman would have been gone by then, napping or training, but Sanji knew he was sticking around for the sole purpose of rubbing the kid's idiotic hero-worship in Sanji's face. It wasn't hard to miss the awed looks Asher would cast at Zoro every fifteen seconds, as though reminding himself that Zoro really was there, and the swordsman wasn't exactly subtle about the way he'd smirk at Sanji after every time it happened.

The ladies had unfortunately already left to their cabin, leaving the deck bereft of their lovely presence.

Sanji was just about to go track down Chopper and have him take a look at Asher's hand so they could get the kid off the ship and away from Zoro's maddening influence, when the galley door above suddenly swung open and the tiny doctor trotted out amidst a pool of light spilling from the kitchen.

Sanji took particular enjoyment from the shout of surprise Asher gave as he fell on his ass.

"Is that a…tanuki in a pink hat?" the kid asked as he shakily got back to his feet, peering up at the reindeer on the second level deck.

Chopper scowled.

"I'm a _reindeer,_" he declared grumpily, pointing an insistent hoof at the antlers framing his hat. Then he turned to the crew, asking curiously, "Who's this, you guys?"

Asher looked like he might fall over again. "It talks?" he gasped out, his eyes ridiculously wide.

Sanji heard the deep rumble of a quiet chuckle from over by the railing, and he could tell without looking that it was Zoro's. Luffy, however, was the one who answered.

"Yep! Chopper's our doctor!"

"And emergency food supply," Sanji murmured quietly, then tossed his cigarette stub over the side of the ship and started heading up the stairs.

Maybe he'd start a marinade for tomorrow's dinner. Or maybe he'd just bake some cookies – he hadn't done that for a while. He suddenly had the urge to lose himself in the flow and release of cooking and didn't really care what he made. He just wanted to cook. For some reason, he'd felt particularly tired and irritable since they'd left the restaurant.

Luffy, instantly noticing the promising direction he was headed, called out, "Sanji! Are you going to make me some food? Please?"

Sanji sighed wearily from the top of the stairs.

"No. Yes. Maybe, we'll see. Just shut the hell up."

"Okay! Make me meat!"

Sanji just rolled his eyes and continued into the kitchen, giving Chopper a nod as he passed. Once within his beautiful, bright kitchen, he pulled the door behind him firmly shut, blocking out everything but the welcome confines of his culinary sanctuary.

He felt inexplicably worn-out, physically and emotionally. He was surprised by this, as his fight with Zoro had been short and invigorating, certainly nothing to tire him out, and he'd been feeling fine earlier in the day. Whatever it was, it had hit shortly after they'd left the restaurant, though he'd ignored it by attending to the girls. Perhaps he was coming down with a cold or something – his body felt suddenly sapped of energy, like when he'd gotten a stomach flu as a child.

He smiled at that particular memory as he began pulling out ingredients for one of his favorite cookie recipes and started the oven heating up. It was the first time he could remember getting sick, and at the time he'd tried to hide it and work in the kitchens anyway. Zeff, of course, had instantly noticed – it was embarrassingly obvious from his drained pallor and the way he could barely stand without swaying – and had forced him to bed, after kicking him through a wall for almost infecting the food.

Sanji had gotten him back by accidently chucking up on his peg leg.

Sanji began creaming the butter and sugar, and the kitchen door flew open with a bang and a determined Chopper marched in, dragging a very surprised-looking Asher stumbling after him.

It seemed the doctor had been informed of the injury.

The little reindeer headed straight through the kitchen, directly to the infirmary door on the other side of the room, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Sanji didn't even think he'd noticed there had been someone in the kitchen. Then the doctor and the kid were inside the infirmary, the door swinging partially shut behind them, leaving just a sliver open.

Sanji chuckled quietly to himself and cracked a single egg into the dough. Chopper could be frightening when he slipped into 'doctor mode' – he'd most likely be giving Asher a stern lecture. And Sanji was not at all inclined to be sympathetic.

A second egg joined the first, and both were soon lost within the sugary mixture.

Sanji didn't know what the kid's problem was – though he wasn't exactly a kid, being just a year younger than Chopper. He acted like Sanji had murdered his dog or something.

Baking soda…salt…flour…

Why was this even bothering him? Obviously, the kid wasn't right in the head if he was so in awe of the muscle-head marimo. It wasn't as if his opinion even mattered.

Sanji's head was beginning to ache.

Chocolate was last… Did Sanji even have chocolate? Why hadn't he thought to check before he started the dough?

No, wait…he had a bar of baking chocolate he'd picked up on a whim a few islands back. Rummaging in the appropriate cupboard, he quickly found it and began chopping off bite-sized chunks. His hands were firm and exact, as always, not leaving behind a single sliver of chocolate as often happened when less-experienced cooks tried hacking away at a hard bar of the bitter-sweet ingredient.

The trick was in the wrist.

After that, it was only a matter of mixing the chocolate chunks in with the rest of the concoction, then balling the dough and putting it in the oven.

Easy.

Sanji had just started putting the ingredients away, wrapping up the remaining chocolate and returning it to its dark cupboard when the infirmary door once again swung open, revealing a blushing, half-glaring half-beaming doctor and his slightly confused patient.

"You can't flatter me, bastard!" the little doctor giggled happily. "I don't want your thanks!"

Judging by the startled light in Asher's eyes, the kid hadn't yet experienced Chopper's reaction to compliments and thanks. Sanji grinned.

"Hey Chopper," he said. "Thanks for watching the ship while we went to dinner, even though it was Usopp's turn. That was generous."

Predictably, Chopper's face somehow managed to turn even redder and his grin even brighter.

"Shut up, asshole! That doesn't make me happy!"

Asher's expression turned from surprised to hostile as he noticed Sanji and switched his gaze to the cook, but he kept his mouth shut.

Sanji ignored it. Instead, he ran his eyes over the new splint on the kid's right hand, which wrapped around his wrist and bound his two smallest fingers together.

"Broken?" he asked Chopper.

Chopper nodded, still blushing pink but easily slipping into his professional tone of voice.

"The neck of the fifth metacarpal is fractured; it's a common result of an inexperienced punch," he announced matter-of-factly.

Sanji didn't bother hiding his smirk when he saw the kid's eyes blaze at being called inexperienced, and he felt a little vindicated. Kid should've used his feet, anyway. Idiot.

"So…" he began, leaning against his counter with deliberate casualness, his eye coolly looking the hot-headed young teen over. "Why'd you punch Franky? Besides that 'he was being a stupid dickhead', which doesn't tell us much."

Chopper looked up curiously at Asher as well, waiting for the answer.

The kid bit down on the inside of his cheek in what seemed to be an internal debate about whether or not to answer Sanji. Finally he reluctantly replied, "He was trying to stop me from watching Roronoa fight you." His eyes took on a curious edge. "Why were you two fighting, anyway?"

Sanji smirked. "'Cause he was being a stupid dickhead."

Really, it would have been a crime _not_ to have said it.

The kid glared at him, obviously not appreciating his humor, and proceeded to pretend Sanji wasn't in the kitchen.

Interesting. Sanji would have thought he'd be the type to never back down from a challenge, easily consumed by his temper. But it seemed the kid had decided to try keeping his hot temper in check for now.

As Sanji puzzled this over, he remembered the kid's excitement when he'd been invited to the ship.

…Ah. So he didn't want to do anything actively hostile in case he got chucked off.

Whatever… That worked for Sanji. At the moment, he didn't have the desire or energy to deal with one sword-obsessed idiot, let alone another, even if it was mini. He just wanted the kid out of his kitchen and out of his way.

The cook suddenly realized his oven was beeping at him, announcing the completion of his cookies. He whirled around and, grabbing a couple of hot pads, opened the oven with his foot and withdrew the two pans inside.

Mmm… Perfect. Crisp on the edges, soft and chewy on the insides. The chocolate chunks had melted just the right amount, and each perfect circle was a delicious mixture of golden brown cookie and gooey dark chocolate.

Sanji slid the pans onto the counter, leaving the hot pads underneath, then turned to the room's other two occupants.

"Cookies?" he offered, drinking in the half-drooling expressions on their faces as the warm, sweet aroma hit their noses. His cooking was irresistible, even to stupid kids who looked like they wanted to hit him every time they were around him – not that he'd let that happen, of course.

Chopper had an eager smile on his face and was nodding almost violently, while Asher was eyeing the treats with a conflicted gaze, his longing evident.

Sanji just whipped out a spatula and began scooping up the cookies and arranging them on a couple of plates to cool. Two he set aside, and when all the cookies were positioned he wrapped those two in napkins and held them out.

The doctor immediately leapt forward, grabbing his with a thrilled smile, while Asher shuffled up suspiciously. He took the proffered cookie, however, and Sanji knew he'd won.

"Don't get crumbs on my floor," he reminded them. "Eat over the napkin."

Then he settled back to watch them enjoy.

Asher's reaction was the best. He started with a small, cautious nibble, clearly not trusting Sanji's skill. Then his eyes widened almost comically, darting up at Sanji in wonder, as if he couldn't trust what he was tasting.

Sanji just grinned.

The kid quickly got control of his features, a hostile mask on his face once more, but there was no hesitation in his next, considerably larger bite, and beneath the mask Sanji could see a flicker of delight.

Yes, Sanji was a culinary god, thank you very much.

"Good, huh?"

Happily, he had almost forgotten the weariness that had been slowly trying to crush him since their return to the ship and the pounding headache that had been creeping up on him, as both were swept aside by the pleasure of watching people enjoy his food. He was feeling much better; it must have just been a temporary-

Then a veritable force of nature whirled inside, in the form of his energetic captain.

"Sanji! Did you make cookies? Meat cookies? Can I have one?"

"Stop!" Sanji ordered, and Luffy froze where he was hovering over the plate of cooling cookies, his greedy rubber paws inches away from snatching them all up. "Yes, I made cookies. No, they are not meat cookies, they are chocolate chip – a classic. Yes, you may have _one._ Just one, or Nami-san will rightly murder me for shooting you full of sugar. Get a napkin and use it to eat over."

Somewhat subdued, though his smile no less enthusiastic, Luffy grabbed a napkin and selected the largest cookie. Knowing he would no doubt attempt to take another as soon as that one was gone, Sanji pushed him away from the plate and forced him to sit at the table.

The drained feeling and headache were back.

Luffy's cookie was gone in one bite, the napkin completely useless and forgotten, and the captain was already bouncing out of his chair, going for another. Sanji absentmindedly kicked him away and settled back against the counter to figure out what the hell was wrong with himself tonight.

Was he really getting sick? Sanji was never sick, hadn't been for years, and even as a child had only had one or two illnesses where he'd had to be put to bed. Nah…he probably just needed some sleep – putting up with the marimo and marimo-junior had worn him out, was all.

"…Sanji?"

With a jolt, Sanji realized that not only had Usopp, Franky and _both_ the girls entered the kitchen and were munching away at his cookies (rather, Franky and Usopp munched – Robin and Nami were much too dainty), but Usopp had been trying to get his attention for the past minute. In fact, while he had been leaning against the table in a daze of weary thought, Franky had snagged the plates of cookies and set them on the table, where everyone else was doing their best to make them disappear – Luffy in particular.

Shit. The captain was going to be beyond hyper for hours. This was going to be hell on his headache.

"What, Usopp?" he snapped, hiding his headache beneath his irritation.

"Ah! Sorry, you just seemed distracted! I was checking to see if you were okay."

Sanji sighed and resisted the urge to rub his temples. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

"Are you sure, cook-bro?" Franky asked. "You look kinda pale."

Sanji ignored the concerned cyborg. What was he doing? Robin-chan and Nami-san were in here, and he hadn't even noticed them come in, let alone offered them cookies with his usual assurances of unending admiration. He must really be out of it.

Luckily, there was time to make up for it.

"Nami-san, Robin-chan!" he beamed at them. "Please enjoy the cookies; I made them especially for you!"

Two lovely smiles answered him, and he felt a rush of happiness at their enjoyment. Now if only his headache would go away again.

"Mmm…Sanji…these are good!" Luffy managed to say around the four cookies currently shoved in his mouth.

"Of course they are," Sanji grinned despite the pounding in his head.

Chopper, of course, was eyeing Sanji with a critical eye. "You know, Franky's right, Sanji. You look really pale! Are you sick? Do you have a fever?"

Sanji squashed down a grimace. "I'm fine," he said between clenched teeth. "I think I'm just going to go get some air. Enjoy the cookies."

With that, he headed straight out the door, leaving his crew and the kid behind with the cookies.

And bumped right into the missing crew member.

"Watch where you're going," Sanji muttered grumpily. Then, "Cookies in the kitchen. Go now if you want any, or they'll be gone." It was probably unnecessary to tell him this, as Zoro had obviously been about to enter the kitchen and usually didn't like dessert anyway, but what the hell. Sanji's headache was starting to make it a little hard to think.

"You look like shit, cook."

Sanji glared at the unapologetically blunt swordsman. He wasn't so sick that he was willing to take that bastard's shit.

"Probably from having to stare at your ugly face," he shot back, rubbing his temples.

But Zoro didn't take the bait.

"No, really. You look like shit. What happened, did you poison yourself or something with your toxic cooking?"

God, he was so infuriating sometimes.

"Whatever," Sanji growled, brushing past Zoro and towards the stairs. "Just shut the hell up. Looking at you is probably making me sick. I'm going for a walk."

Sanji didn't know what made him decide that, but a walk along the beach suddenly sounded like exactly what he needed. Just him and the waves against the shore…

Sanji missed the strange look the swordsman threw him before shrugging and stepping inside the bright kitchen, shutting the door and leaving Sanji alone in the darkness.

Ahh…that was better. No glaring lights against his tired eye, no rambunctious captains, no irritating marimo-wannabes and definitely no real ones. Sanji could hear the waves lapping against the side of the ship, soothingly, almost like they were calling him. He had the sudden urge to go for a refreshing, nighttime swim – something he hadn't done since he was kid back on the Baratie.

Acting on impulse, he toed off his shoes and slipped out of his jacket, fishing out a cigarette and tucking it behind his ear before folding the jacket carefully and leaving it beside his shoes. Next came his socks, dropped atop his shoes as well. Then he bent and slowly rolled up his pants, so they came to his knees.

Maybe he wouldn't go for a swim tonight, but the tide was low and it was a short walk to the shore. He wouldn't even need to take out the Mini Merry.

Vaulting himself over the edge of the Sunny, he snagged a hold on the rope ladder and quickly lowered himself down into the water, hand over hand.

The water was deliciously cold and barely came up to his thighs. His pants would still get wet, but he honestly didn't give a damn. His headache was already fading away like it had never been there. Rejuvenated – that was how it felt, as the gentle ocean rocked against his thighs, caressing and welcoming. Beneath his feet and between his toes he could feel the soft, velvety silt of the ocean floor.

The sand sucked him down a little as he began to walk, slowly wading towards the shore. He let his fingertips brush at the water's surface, and the dark waves playfully rose up to meet them. He felt entirely in his element, like a return home.

Almost too soon he had reached the shore, reaching down to wring out the bottoms of his pants, though he left them rolled. Dry sand clung to his wet feet and ankles, a thin coat.

The cigarette he had tucked away for safe keeping was quickly placed between his lips and lit.

His headache was now completely gone, erased under the dual influence of smoke and the sea. It felt good just standing there, pulling on a cigarette as the waves flirted with his feet, embracing them then scurrying away once more. For a while, the only sounds were his quiet breath and the breath of the ocean.

Then a new sound intruded on the night's stillness, a jarring note that creased his forehead before his brain even registered it.

Voices…he could hear the distant rumble of voices over the waves, though he couldn't yet make out the distinct words. And oddly, the voices were coming from directly above Sanji…on that cliff trail that apparently no one used anymore.

Curious, Sanji wandered away from the water's edge and towards the base of the cliffs where the narrow trail began. He started to climb, ignoring the occasional bite of a pebble against his bare feet.

After about five minutes of climbing, he heard a voice again.

"…just where the hell…didn't he tell us…said they'd come this way…"

Sanji paused to tilt his head, unable to clearly make out all of the speaker's words.

What the hell was going on? Didn't that kid say no one used this path?

Something felt funny to Sanji, making the hairs on his arms stand up. He started up again, at a quieter, creeping climb now.

Thinking back on his journey up the trail this morning, he was willing to bet whoever it was up there was sitting at a cetain, unusually wide section of the path – where the trail curved into the cliff face, creating a shallow cave in the rock, wide enough for at most ten men to huddle under. If he remembered correctly, it was about twenty feet below the top of the cliff.

Rather suspicious, he thought.

The voices had stopped again, but Sanji was drawing even nearer to the small cavity. He slowed further.

Then, when he was on the section of path directly beneath the cave, a voice spoke up, this time loud and clear.

"Fuck this," the voice spat. "They aren't coming. The mayor must've lied. Let's go back to the boss and tell him the deal got broken, 'cause I ain't waiting here any longer. It's a fucking waste of time."

A few pebbles narrowly missed hitting Sanji's head as the speaker began climbing up the trail.

"Hold up, you idiot!" another voice hissed. "What if they're just late? You really wanna tell the boss you blew it 'cause you couldn't sit still for a few hours?"

"Look, they ain't coming," the first shot back. "Maybe they decided to sleep in town or something, but there's no way I'm spending the night freezing my ass off here with all you idiots."

A third voice broke in, a deep growling voice that sounded like it could come from a giant's belly.

"Both of you shut up. Listen."

All voices fell silent, and Sanji held his breath. Had they heard him?

After a minute, the giant voice spoke again. "Thought I heard something. Guess not."

Sanji slowly released his breath.

"Nah, you heard something, Slade," a new voice drawled from right behind Sanji, chuckling. "We got ourselves a little bug on the wall down here."


	6. On the Thousand Sunny

**Chapter Six**

_On the Thousand Sunny_

* * *

The evening's dessert had quickly been devoured, leaving only crumbs, empty plates, and satisfied appetites behind. Once every cookie had disappeared, the crew had settled back in the comfortable chairs and turned their curious eyes on the young boy in their midst, asking him questions and generally nosing into his life.

Asher, his name was. Fourteen-year-old chore boy and newly instated substitute cook at the Cliffside Tavern. Worked with his sister, lived with his sick aunt and indifferent uncle.

And Zoro was quickly getting bored with the situation.

So, after finishing off a bottle of sake the cook had tried (and failed miserably, the dumbass) to hide, he tilted back in his chair and let his eyes drop closed for a short nap. He had just started to peacefully slip into sleep when Nami asked Asher a question that caught his interest, pulling his eyes reluctantly open.

"What do you know about the gang on the island?"

There was a pause, then Asher's young face scrunched up in anger and he answered, unexpected loathing dripping from his words.

"…Miser's gang?" he answered, practically spitting out the words in distaste. "They're all…scum. I hate them, hate _him_. He's a….tyrant that doesn't' deserve to live. Everyone hates him, but no one has the guts to do anything."

Zoro saw Nami blink at the sudden vehemence in the boy's voice, and he noticed the kid's hands were clenched tightly beneath the table, turning his knuckles white. The passion behind the boy's hate intrigued him, but before he could think on it more, Asher had continued.

"Miser and his gang only come around to our town about three times a year, since it's is so small, but he forces us to give him free food and stuff. His men stay in our houses whenever they want…they're awful. But they're strong enough to get away with it. And the marines leave him alone – he made a deal to turn in bounties that come to the island, and as long as he keeps his side they don't stop him from bothering us."

Zoro glanced over at his captain, and noticed he was getting the familiar frown on his face that was usually put there by some scumbag that pissed him off.

"Does he have a devil fruit power?" Luffy asked seriously. "What makes him so strong?"

"Nobody knows for sure if he's eaten a devil fruit," Asher answered. "But he has a lot of men and guns, and most guys on this island, except for the ones in Miser's gang, have no fighting experience and are too scared to learn. So no one stands up to him."

Luffy frowned. "That's really stupid," he said with his usual tact. "You guys should learn to defend yourselves, instead of just letting him walk all over you."

Zoro was inclined to agree. He didn't have much patience for people who were content to let others bully them, without trying to stick up for themselves.

Asher flushed in anger and embarrassment, his cheeks and ears turning an interesting shade of scarlet.

"That's easy for you to say, you're already strong! And besides, Miser usually just forces anyone who seems like they could be a real threat to join him, just like happened to…" Asher stopped suddenly, then quickly started on another argument.

"Anyway, I am training to be strong, but I'm just one person. Most of the people on this island are women, kids, or cowards, and we don't have a lot of weapons. Besides, our mayor, Sato-san, doesn't want anyone to fight, 'cause he says Miser isn't a big enough problem to risk our lives."

Franky, relaxed at the corner of the table opposite Asher, where the electric light was making his blue hair even more vibrant, stretched his arms casually above his head and said, "He might be right, kid. This Miser guy seems really un-super, but it'd be stupid to fight him without knowing what you're doing."

The angry, fuming blush was back, and the kid scowled ferociously at the cyborg. In turn, Franky just cracked his neck and rolled his eyes.

"I'm just telling you the facts, kid; don't blow your top off."

Asher scowled harder down at his hands but didn't have a response. In the sudden silence, Usopp spoke up.

"Hey guys…" he began, looking around bright kitchen, where the Strawhats were lounging in chairs or leaning against counters, or, in Luffy's case, perched happily on the counter. "Where did Sanji go?"

Zoro, who had just been closing his eyes and reconsidering a nap, looked up.

"The idiot cook said he was going for a walk," he grunted, then got up to search for another bottle of sake.

"A walk?" Chopper repeated, his chin barely reaching above the table, his face switching into his serious doctor expression. "He didn't look very well; a walk isn't a good idea right now." He directed his words at Zoro, reproachfully, as though it was Zoro's fault the cook had decided to be such an obstinate idiot.

Zoro just started rooting around in a cupboard, pushing aside bags of flour and sugar and other things he couldn't recognize, let alone pronounce.

"He's probably fine, Chopper," Usopp reassured the doctor, smiling down his nose. "He probably just has a cold."

"Then he shouldn't be going outside!"

Zoro heard the kid, Asher, let out a contemptuous snort, obviously eager for someone to direct his antagonism at, even if that particular person wasn't exactly present at the time.

"Does he get sick a lot? He looks like it."

"Nope," Luffy answered cheerfully. "If he got sick all the time he couldn't make me food! And Sanji makes the best food in the world."

Zoro started pulling open the higher cupboards, looking through plates and cups. Where did that skinny cook hide all the sake? Zoro knew he kept more than one bottle at a time. In fact, the bastard took twisted pleasure in buying more than anyone but Zoro would want to drink and then hiding it all.

"Hey, kid," Franky said, and there was a creak as he titled back in his chair. "You don't like cook-bro too much, do you?"

"Yeah," Usopp joined in. "You were glaring it him all night. I would have thought Franky would be the one you didn't like, of any of us. I mean…you broke your hand punching him, right?"

Why did the cook have so many types of pots? There was no way he could use that many. Zoro slammed the cupboard shut in disgust and pulled open the next.

At the table, before Asher could answer, Chopper suddenly jumped up in shocked distress.

"That reminds me! I wanted to give you the new medicine I created!" The doctor darted away, a pink and brown blur, disappearing for a moment in his workroom. Then he was back in a second, a tiny green capsule in one hoof.

"Here." He handed it proudly to Asher, who looked at it with more than a little hesitation and suspicion. "I designed it for broken bones. You don't need to worry; it's all natural. It's calcium based with other herbs to help with bone regrowth and to take down any swelling. Perfectly safe. Zoro, will you get him a glass of water?"

Zoro grunted in annoyance, but grabbed a cup and filled it from the tap. As he walked it over to the doctor and patient, he saw Robin leaning in to examine the pill.

"That's very good, Chopper," she spoke, interest coloring her voice. "Was one of the plants you used a _verbelia_?"

Flushing, Chopper nodded. "_Allium verbelia_. It's the main active ingredient. It's usually difficult to use, because it's so powerful that the body tends to reject it, but I managed to bypass that reaction by adding…"

Zoro set the cup down and returned to the kitchen area to continue his search, tuning out the scientific talk. It looked like he wasn't the only one tuning out, either, as Luffy had begun licking at the empty plates for the leftover crumbs and the occasional forgotten chunk of chocolate.

Now, for the sake. Maybe Sanji hid it in the oven? Seemed like something the sneaky cook might do. No - then he'd have to take it out every time he wanted to bake something.

Zoro instead pulled open a long, thin cupboard he hadn't looked in yet.

…Cutting boards.

Damn cook.

Rummaging around anyway, in case there was a bottle in the back, Zoro didn't hear the galley door open until it was too late.

"If you're looking for sake, marimo, you aren't going to find any."

Zoro rolled his eyes and straightened up. His answer, however, was lost in Chopper's shocked gasp.

"Sanji! You're bleeding!"

Sanji was bleeding. And dripping wet.

Tiny droplets clung to his hair and skin, plastering his clothes against his frame. His feet were bare and his jacket gone. Most noticeable, though, was the patch of blood seeping through the left side of his shirt, the fabric badly torn and tattered.

Heh. Bet the cook was pissed about that.

"What the hell happened to you?" Zoro asked, not worried. That kind of wound was just a scratch, the sort of thing they dealt with on an almost daily basis.

"Bastard with a knife, sneaked up on me. Reminded me of you. Listen," the blond said to the rest of the crew, gently swatting a concerned Chopper away from his wound. "That ass of a mayor set us up."

"What?" several voices exclaimed. Robin and Nami, however, looked as unsurprised as Zoro felt – they had no doubt realized something fishy was going on as well.

"Wait just a minute!" Chopper commanded sternly, glaring up at the considerably taller cook. "Before you tell us anything, I'm taking a look at that cut."

Sanji sighed and scratched at his good side, looking tired and frustrated. "It's okay, Chopper. It's not deep, it barely even tickled."

Chopper's glare didn't relax, if anything got more severe. "That may be so, but I still have to look at it. You and Zoro always lie about how serious your injuries are, and I also have to see if there's any danger of infection. So shut up and sit down, or at least hold still."

"Chopper's right," Luffy agreed firmly. "If you get infected, you can't cook. Let Chopper look at it. Captain's orders."

Sanji rolled his eyes, but complied. His deft fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt then shucked it off his shoulders. Once the bloody garment was gone, it was easy to see the injury wasn't terribly serious – the shirt had ripped pretty badly, but the cut itself was shallow.

"The shirt got the worst of it," Sanji lamented, echoing Zoro's thoughts.

Chopper poked around it for a moment then trotted away, returning a minute later with his medical bag.

Zoro saw Sanji roll his eyes – eye, since his wet hair was still splayed perpetually across the left side of his face – again as Chopper bustled around him, cleaning the wound and wiping it gently with disinfectant.

Then Sanji turned that eye on Zoro, frowning, and said, "Stop messing around with my kitchen. If you're looking for the sake, you're not going to find it."

Zoro smirked. "I already found one bottle, smartass. Maybe you should hide it better if you don't want me to find it."

Sanji looked annoyingly unperturbed. "That's the decoy bottle. Didn't you notice it was the really cheap, shitty kind? The real stuff is hidden."

…That damn cook. Only he would go so far as to use a decoy bottle, just to annoy Zoro. Asshole. But-

"Sake's sake."

"No, the sake you drank tasted like horse piss." Sanji winced a little then, and looked down at Chopper's hat where the doctor was busy stitching his side. "Though I'm not surprised _you_ can't tell the difference."

"Guys," Nami snapped. "This isn't the time. Sanji, what did you mean about the mayor?"

Zoro scowled at the witch but shrugged and looked away. He finally noticed Asher, who had turned a little pale and was staring at Sanji in shock – whether from the wound or from Sanji's accusation of the mayor, Zoro wasn't sure.

"Of course Nami-san!" the cook crooned lovingly. Sometimes, Zoro thought Sanji just did that to get on his nerves. "I'll tell you exactly what happened. I went to the beach for a walk, and the delicate streams of moonlight on the ocean waves reminded me of your own divine, transcendent beauty. It enraptured me, as I am captivated by you-"

Thankfully, Nami seemed in as much a mood to listen to the cook's poetic bullshit as Zoro was, and she quickly cut in impatiently.

"Get to the point, Sanji!"

"Of course, I was merely taking the moment to worship your loveliness as it deserves. Very well, I will continue," he sighed dramatically. "I was on the beach and heard voices coming from the cliff trail. Since, _apparently_," the cook glanced at Asher, who was listening intently, "no one uses that trail anymore, I thought it was suspicious and decided to investigate.

"Just a little ways down from the top of the cliff, there were some thugs, probably about nine, hiding in a cave. I listened in and found out they were part of that gang, Miser's or something. They were hiding there to jump us as we came down."

Ah…Zoro had suspected something like that. Why else would the mayor have lied about the trail, hiding the pulley car from them?

Asshole.

Chopper fished in his bag for his roll of bandages, and the cook rested his hands on his head as the doctor began gingerly wrapping up his lean torso.

"Anyway, they saw me and tried to pick a fight. I kicked their asses and they ran away. One of them just hid, though, and when I turned around he jumped me and nicked me with his knife. Then I kicked his ass and came back here."

Sanji shrugged a shoulder, the one on his good side, as his story finished, looking both pissed and indifferent, a contradiction only the cook, a walking contradiction himself, could pull off well.

Then Asher was speaking, the shock vanished from his face and his eyes narrowed.

"What makes you think Sato-san set you up?" he questioned suspiciously. "He's a good guy. He wouldn't lie."

"Yeah, well, obviously he did," the cook said, raising a curled brow at Asher. "It's clear he lied about the cliff trail, saying it was the only way up or down the cliffs, so we'd have to take that way, leaving us open for their trap. It was a good trap too; the cave's just after a switchback on the trail, and it would have been easy to take us by surprise. Though they were all weak idiots, so it wouldn't have mattered, but it's possible they could have really fucked us up before we noticed they were there. And Luffy," Sanji turned to the captain, "They had seastone."

Seastone – ridiculously expensive, but would have incapacitated three of their fighters. How had a small gang on a tiny, insignificant island gotten their hands on seastone?

Asher pressed his mouth shut. He looked like he wanted to argue more, but had decided against it. Shame, because it would have been interesting to see if he could get the cook all pissed off again.

Robin and Nami exchanged serious glances, while Usopp stared up at the blond, looking nervous and unsettled. Chopper's eyes were worried and wide.

Then Luffy stood and plucked his hat up from where it had been resting on the table next to him and dropped it on his head. Judging by the determined, thoughtful frown on Luffy's face, Zoro thought it was a pretty safe bet to say they likely wouldn't be leaving this island without sticking their noses into the town's business.

Nami apparently had come to the same conclusion as Zoro, because she quickly spoke up with a stern voice and said, "Luffy. We're supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember? Every marine within a thousand miles is looking for us right now; we can't draw attention to ourselves."

Zoro could have told her she was wasting her breath.

"C'mon, guys," Luffy said with characteristic certainty, completely disregarding Nami's protestations. "This Miser guy pisses me off. Let's go kick his ass."

Nami, for all her greedy faults, could at least recognize when to give up, and she just sighed and shook her head in long-suffering exasperation. The rest of the Strawhats all rolled their eyes, unsurprised at their captain's decision, but Asher had scrambled to his feet, turning to Luffy quickly.

"Are you really gonna take on Miser's gang?" he asked suspiciously, eagerly, looking as if someone had just given him a priceless gift and he suspected they were going to snatch it back any minute. "You're strong enough, right? I bet if you do, the town will give you a reward! So will you do it?"

Luffy grinned at the younger teen.

"Of course. But I'm not doing it for your town or a reward. Miser tried to hurt my nakama, and I don't let anyone get away with that. He just pisses me off."

Zoro was used to Luffy's simple logic, as were the other crew members, but Asher's eyes widened at the straightforward statement. The kid sank back down into his chair, looking a little stunned.

"That was…easier than I thought it'd be."

"Eh?" Luffy questioned. "What're you talking about?"

Sanji, his bandaging complete and his doctor satisfied and put at ease, strolled over to the kitchen to lean on the counter next to Zoro.

"Let me guess," he said before Asher could reply. "You came here to try to convince us to take down Miser for you. Am I right?"

Zoro, had he been unfamiliar with Sanji's irritatingly quick brain and even more annoying personality, might have been impressed the cook had figured that out with so little information, considering he hadn't been there for Asher's earlier, tellingly angry outburst against Miser. As it was, the swordsman just picked at his teeth and waited for the kid's answer indifferently.

Asher scowled at the blond cook, but his head nodded. "I figured since your crew was so strong," he told Luffy, "you'd be strong enough to fight him if you wanted. I thought you might be willing to do it for a reward, or something."

Unsurprisingly, Nami cut in right then. "What kind of reward are we talking about?" she asked, eyes gleaming greedily.

Asher blushed a little. "I've got a lot of money saved up…for a boat when I'm older…and I was going to offer it to you. It's not much, but I thought it might be enough, if I told you what a jerk Miser was… And the rest of the town might have been grateful enough to pitch in…"

Beside Zoro, Sanji fixed the boy with a shrewd gaze. Asher noticed and visibly tried not to squirm, covering his discomfort with a glare.

"You'd be willing to give us all the money you've saved?" the bandaged blond probed, easily disregarding the younger boy's attempt at a menacing glower. "Do you really hate Miser that much? I know he bullies the town and everything, but since this village is so small and isolated from the rest of the island, I thought he didn't come around very often."

Asher scowled harder and looked away.

"Isn't that bad enough? I just hate him, okay?"

Interesting. Zoro exchanged a glance with Sanji, and could see his own suspicion reflected in the other's eye. The kid was obviously hiding something.

Not that it mattered. Luffy apparently had made up his mind, so the Strawhat's course was already set.

The cook appeared to have come to the same understanding, because he'd let off on questioning the kid and was just itching at his bandaged side.

Luffy, full of his usual determination but not a whole lot of planning, was already trying to head out the door and into the night, ready to take down any gang boss that dared threaten his nakama – a purposeful gleam in his eye, his constant hat atop his head, and his crew by his side.

Nami stopped him before he got too far.

"Hold it, Luffy!" she called, hand stretched out and scrunching her nose up in thought. "Listen for a minute; we're not going anywhere yet."

"Nami…" the captain whined, but his navigator had no mercy.

"Not yet. Just sit down and listen."

Luffy pouted but obeyed, settling on the edge of a stool, surprisingly docile for the moment.

"Good," she nodded approvingly. "First, Asher – is Miser the type to give up easily?"

Asher shook his head silently.

"So it's not likely he's going to give up on capturing us, especially since all our crew has bounties," the orange-haired woman concluded, oddly smug considering how she was always bitching about the fact that she was wanted now. "So it's safe to say he'll try again, likely tomorrow since the log pose sets after that and we'll be gone," she deduced next. "Sanji – did you say the men who attacked you were weak?"

The cook nodded eagerly. Zoro rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Nami-san! It seemed like they were planning to rely on surprising us before we could resist, and they weren't expecting me to come up the back way. Like I said - they might have had a chance if they'd been able to catch us by surprise and trap the devil fruit users with seastone right at the start, but in a fair fight we'd annihilate them."

"Right," Nami nodded. "So the way I see it, is we either go out and track Miser down, when we have no idea where he is right now, or we can wait for him to come to us – which he'll most likely do tomorrow while we're in town."

"But Nami," Usopp frowned worriedly, "doesn't that make it more likely we'll get caught or hurt?"

"Maybe. But you guys should be able to take them out fine, right Luffy?"

Luffy nodded, grinning. Zoro noted idly how she excluded herself from any possible fighting.

"And Miser will probably have gathered more of his men, after his first plan failed so badly, so you'll have the chance to take more of them out at once," she declared, pleased with her logic.

"Doesn't that make it worse?" Usopp questioned, but was quelled by Nami's fierce glare.

"If we take out more of the gang, the town will be more likely to give us a reward!" she explained, as though that should have been obvious from the start. And for someone who had sailed with Nami so long, it should have been.

"Excuse me…" Chopper politely interrupted. "Didn't the mayor, Sato-san, say that Miser was on the other side of the island? How could he have known we were here in enough time to set a trap?"

"It's possible the mayor lied about that too, that Miser really was on this side of the island," Usopp suggested.

"No," Asher cut in, surprising several of the crew. "Whenever Miser's on our side of the island, we know about it. They make a scene wherever they go – they're impossible to miss."

"Then how could he have known we were here?" Chopper asked.

"Probably has people watching the coastlines or something," Nami stated airily, obviously not concerned. "But that doesn't matter. In any case, we need to decide what we're doing about Miser. If we try to track him down now, we'll just end up wandering around the island in the dark. If we wait, it's very likely he'll come directly to us, and if not it will be easier to find him during the day. Do you understand, Luffy? We should wait for tomorrow before doing anything."

Luffy looked very put-out, but he nodded his agreement. "Alright, Nami. We'll wait 'til tomorrow. Then we'll kick his ass."

"Good." The navigator smiled in satisfaction. "Now, Asher…how much of a reward do you think the town will give us for taking out the gang?"

Typical money-obsessed witch.

As Asher stammered and stalled, disclaiming any responsibility for the rest of the town, the cook at Zoro's side turned to the curly-haired sniper.

"Hey, Usopp," Sanji said, "you're on watch tonight, right?"

Usopp nodded.

"Make sure you keep a good eye out, in case they try anything while we're sleeping."

The sniper gulped nervously, but nodded again. "You can count on me, Sanji!"

"…Me? I'm not sure how much money exactly I have saved up…" Asher was stuttering at the intent navigator interrogating him. "But I thought Luffy-san said he didn't want a reward…?"

"Hey!" Chopper suddenly started, standing up on his chair. "It's really late, we better get Asher back to his house!"

"O-oh…right," Asher jumped at the opportunity, clearly eager to get away from Nami's greedy clutches. "Thanks for letting me see your ship, and thank you for splinting my hand, Dr. Chopper! I'll be going now…"

Chopper immediately blushed and went into his usual flutters of happiness and denial.

"I don't care if you're happy!"

Speaking over Chopper, Luffy turned to Asher and asked, "Is it okay for you to go back on your own? 'Cause Sanji can take you if it's a problem!"

"Don't just volunteer people, idiot! And you can't send me, I just got injured!" the cook protested, but Asher was shaking his head.

"Nah, I'm fine. I come down here at night all the time with my cou-" he broke off, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly, but it only took a half-second for him to regain composure.

"I mean I come down here at night all the time. I'll be fine. Thank you, though."

Luffy nodded happily, unaware, but Zoro could see a flash of comprehension in Sanji's eye. The cook had noticed the slip as well. The question was, what could the kid be hiding? That was the second time that night it had happened, where he'd broken off what he'd been about to say then switched to something else.

To be honest, Zoro wasn't really curious what the kid wasn't telling them. He didn't care, just found it a little odd that he'd actually _have_ something he thought he needed to hide. If he didn't want to tell them, then what the hell. It wasn't Zoro's business, and he didn't care to make his business.

"Are you really going to fight Miser?" Asher asked the captain, his eyes careful but cautious hope shining through. He seemed very hesitant to believe that someone would actually take on the island's infamous gang, especially with no reward as motivation. Obviously, he had never met Monkey D. Luffy.

Already, Luffy's trademark, dauntless grin was pulling at his face, and his carefree laughter echoed in the room.

"Didn't I tell you? I don't let anybody hurt my nakama. I'm gonna kick his ass."

Zoro grinned.

* * *

AN: I'm very sorry this update is later than usual. I don't even have a good excuse, because this chapter was already written. I'm just a shitty updater OTL. As always, thank you to everyone who leaves reviews; it makes a big difference for me.


	7. Divided

**Chapter Seven**

_Divided_

* * *

Asher was waiting for them the next morning at the top of the cliffs.

They had left early in the morning – Sanji being up even earlier to make breakfast – in order to have plenty of time to finish shopping then take out Miser and his goons. With any luck, they'd be done with all their business before dinnertime, and Sanji would have time to experiment with a new spice he'd seen for sale yesterday while he was tracking down the stupid lost swordsman.

Robin had opted to be the one to stay with the Sunny, as she had nothing to shop for and was able to defend the ship, were the need to arise. Sanji had tried arguing that Zoro fit those qualifications just as easily, but Nami had put her foot down and declared Zoro was needed to carry the heavy stuff.

Well. Sanji was never one to argue against using Zoro for a pack mule.

So they'd left, leaving Robin behind and walking the short stretch of beach to the pulley car, and after reaching the top (Zoro had not been allowed to work the ropes this time) Sanji noticed the hot-heated brat from the night before, dozing against a rock.

Dammit. Sanji had hoped, perhaps unreasonably, that they'd seen the last of him. Oh well; now maybe Sanji could figure out what the kid was trying to hide from them, because it was painfully obvious there was something else, maybe about Miser, he wasn't telling; his eyes practically screamed, _'I'm not telling the whole story!'_

Sanji strolled up to the kid and kicked him lightly – which was better than he deserved – on the foot to wake him up. Asher jolted, then instantly was scrambling to his feet, scowling blearily and rubbing at tired eyes. When he saw Zoro, however, the glare vanished and a bright smile took its place.

Zoro smirked.

Damn, this kid was annoying. What was his deal? Why was he so obsessed with the idiot marimo?

"Hey Asher!" Luffy bounced happily at seeing the younger teen. "Aren't you supposed to be working at the tavern this morning?"

"It's okay," Asher grinned, "My sister's covering for me. Breakfast is easy today, anyway; it's just porridge and biscuits."

"You left your sister to work on her own, especially after abandoning her with the dishes last night?" Sanji growled out. He knew there had been a good reason he didn't like the kid.

Asher responded the way he usually did to Sanji: scowling.

"It's fine, she owes me anyway." He turned back to Luffy, the childish scowl wiped away. "I wanted to come with you guys and see you fight Miser!" he said firmly, and his dark brown eyes were filled with determination.

Luffy instantly went off on his usual delighted, carefree laughter, no doubt about to give his wholehearted approval of the plan, but Nami (the beautiful voice of reason) frowned.

"That's a really bad idea," she said bluntly. "We don't know when Miser and his men will try to attack us, and you'd either end up getting in our way or getting hurt, or both. You should just go back home, Asher-kun."

Sanji beamed at the darling, wonderful, intelligent navigator. Then the kid spoke.

"You're going in to town to shop anyway, right? You can't really stop me from following you there. Besides, Miser probably won't do anything in town, so it won't be a problem. I won't get in the way!"

Zoro, the smirking bastard, stepped in then and clinched it.

"He's right, we're going to town anyway, and there will be people around. It's not likely Miser will make his move then, but even if he does there's no way to stop the kid from going shopping. We might as well let him come."

"…Whatever, I guess it's fine," Nami agreed.

Sanji tried not to sulk too obviously.

They set off towards town, about a seven minute walk, Luffy leading the way with his loose, confident stride. Zoro ambled lazily at the back, the kid at his heels like an eager puppy. Sanji was hovering in the middle, debating whether it would be worth putting up with both antagonistic jerk-offs in order to pry more information out of Asher, when Chopper distracted him by asking after his health.

"Are you feeling better Sanji?" he interrogated with his usual mix of innocent concern and professional sternness.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, thanks. I told you it was just a scratch."

"Good." Chopper nodded, satisfied, then turned back as another thought appeared to strike him.

"Are you still feeling sick? You looked really pale earlier last night."

Sanji fidgeted awkwardly, though he disguised it easily. "Yeah, I'm fine. I wasn't sick, just tired. But thanks."

Another nod, and the doctor thankfully turned his attention away from Sanji.

Last night had been…weird. Whatever it was, it had struck suddenly, draining his energy and sapping at all his strength and leaving him with a pounding ache in his head. Then it had just…faded away as he left the ship, leaving him entirely by the time he got to the shore. It hadn't come back, thankfully.

A very reasonable and understandable explanation presented itself – that he merely got a little sick, was briefly under the weather – but somehow it didn't feel that way to Sanji. Though he had no idea how to articulate this, he knew that the feeling was strange and foreign and very _not_ normal.

But then, he hardly ever got sick, so what would he know?

In any case, the energy-sucking feeling was gone, along with any other mysterious symptoms, and Sanji was content leaving it at that.

Dismissing the matter once more from his mind, he realized they were now entering the town's borders, in the midst of the quiet houses that hid on the edges, away from the noisier shops and active businesses. In just a minute or two, they would reach the center of town, where the small but busy outdoor market was located. By then, Sanji would be occupied tasting and measuring and haggling for supplies, so if he wanted to interrogate the kid, now would be the time to do it.

With that thought in mind, he fell back in step with the swordsman and his deluded fan.

Zoro seemed unconcerned with Sanji's sudden presence, just giving him a quick, impassive glance with his black eyes then looking away, but Asher treated Sanji to a suspicious scowl.

Really, that was getting old as hell. Didn't the kid have any other expressions besides dopey worship or distrustful hostility? And what had Sanji done that offended the kid so much anyway? He had seemed to hate Sanji before he'd even met him.

"Asher," Sanji smiled charmingly, determined to not let a shitty kid barely into his teens get under his skin. It was stupid and juvenile.

Asher didn't answer save for an annoyed grunt that would have sounded eerily similar to the marimo's standard form of communication, except Zoro, despite his other faults, never sounded like a sulky brat. Well, usually didn't.

Sanji again graciously ignored the disgusting display of unrefined manners and continued easily, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. "Your sister is Asuka-chan, right?"

"Yeah," Asher answered shortly, his tone flirting with the line of being rude. "I told you guys that last night."

Sanji took a deliberate, divine drag of his smoke, before letting it escape slowly. "And I no doubt would have heard you, had I not been beating the shit out of Miser's men. Get over yourself, kid, I'm just asking you some questions."

Asher looked ridiculously affronted and instantly etched his scowl deeper. "Yeah right," he huffed. "You're too weak to have taken out _one_ of Miser's thugs, let alone nine. You probably exaggerated what happened to make yourself not look like a scrawny sissy."

This kid was damn lucky he was so young, otherwise he'd currently be feeling Sanji's shoe up his ass. Zoro, on the other hand, was about to be become much more intimately acquainted with Sanji's footwear if he didn't shut the hell up and stop laughing like a mental patient.

"Keep laughing, shitty marimo, and I'll give you something _really_ funny to laugh about," Sanji hissed. "And you, kid, I don't know what the hell your problem is, but shut your goddamn mouth for a minute and let me ask you a question."

Asher, who had been grinning in delight at Zoro's obnoxious, appreciative laughter, turned the cockily childish smirk on Sanji now. "How am I supposed to keep my mouth shut and still answer your question?"

God, Sanji wanted to wring his neck. With his feet of course – the kid wasn't worth using his precious hands.

Sanji retaliated by flicking some cigarette ash at the kid, who scowled (naturally) and quickly brushed it angrily from his clothes.

"Let's make this quick and easy for both of us," Sanji drawled, clamping his cigarette back between his teeth. "First: Who else do you live with besides your sister and your uncle?"

"Why should I answer you?"

"Just answer the damn question, kid."

"I don't want to."

"For fuck's sake, you're even worse than the marimo!" Sanji exploded. "Fine, whatever. Next question: Were you the one who made the soup last night at the tavern?"

The kid looked surprised at this query, as if he had never expected a cook to be interested in food, of all things, and it was perhaps because of this surprise that he forgot to antagonize Sanji and instead nodded in confirmation.

Finally. Sanji could work with this.

"It was a good soup," he commented, once again surprising the kid, who was now regarding him with clear suspicion. "Did you use parsley stems in the stock?"

Again, warily, Asher nodded.

Too easy. Once he got the kid answering, the rest was a piece of cake.

"How long did you let the stock simmer before straining it?"

"…Two hours."

"Have you made that stew before?"

"Of course, it's one of our standard dinners, so we make it all the time." The offended look was back.

"Was this your first time making it by yourself?" Sanji asked, deceivingly casual.

"Yeah, Taro usually does the main-"

The kid broke off suddenly, and an unexpectedly distressed look spread across his face, turning his face slate-grey. Then as if to make up for this, he instantly flushed a deep, furious red.

"Shut up," he snapped, looking forward fiercely. "I said I didn't want to talk to you."

Sanji felt particularly smug, not having expected to stumble on something so easily.

"Taro?" he questioned mercilessly. Even Zoro was looking interested this point, turning dark, curious eyes on the young teen as well, his angular brows creased.

"Last night," the swordsman began, "you said the tavern was family-run, and the only family you mentioned were your sister, aunt, and uncle. Who's Taro?"

Asher looked guilty, shifting his eyes to the side. "Taro is my older cousin," he answered hesitantly, though clearly directing his answer at Zoro and rudely ignoring Sanji. "He used to be the main cook for the tavern, but he left home about a week ago."

Damn. That was it?

That was the secret the kid was hiding? Sanji could understand why he wouldn't really want to talk about it, if he had liked his cousin and had been upset over him leaving, but it had really seemed there was something more serious. Shit…Sanji had tortured himself trying to get answers out of the kid for nothing.

Figured.

Zoro, with his typical unsociable tact and consideration, said, "Sorry, kid," and kept strutting along, not looking sympathetic at all. Asher, however, turned his familiar scowl back on Sanji.

"How did you guess that was the first time I'd made the soup by myself?" he asked, sounding very petulant and childish.

Sanji frowned down at him, debating whether or not he wanted to answer now that he had figured out the so-called mysterious secret, but decided he was never one to miss an opportunity to lecture about cooking.

"Beef stock," he declared smoothly, "should simmer at least six hours before straining, preferably longer, otherwise the taste and consistency get off. A lot of cooks make that mistake the first time they make it, 'cause they get impatient too easily. The soup was good, but the stock tasted like it hadn't simmered long enough."

Asher turned away, his eyes on the ground now, his cheeks red in anger and embarrassment. Sanji would have almost felt bad for him, but then remembered what the kid had said about him being a sissy.

Stupid little bastard.

They reached the business section of town then, a welcome distraction, and Nami quickly took control of the situation with characteristic efficiency.

"Okay, listen up everyone," she said briskly. "We're going to split in two groups, then meet up at the fountain in the middle of town in two and a half hours. Usopp and Zoro, you two go with Sanji and help get the food."

Predictably, Zoro grumbled noisily about the arrangement, but Nami ignored it and continued.

"Chopper, Luffy, Franky and I will go together, to get Chopper's supplies and clothes shopping for me. Questions?"

"Yeah," Usopp piped up. "Why do we need to go in groups like this? I wanted to check out the-"

"No," Nami cut in sharply. "You'll just end up wasting money on stuff we don't need. And this way we'll be better prepared in case Miser does decide to try anything in town."

"But-"

"Good, glad you all agree. Let's go, and remember to keep an eye out for Miser's gang." With that, she turned on her heel and marched off, Chopper (now in walk point form) trotting happily after and Franky strolling – despite the odd looks he got for his usual bizarre getup – unconcernedly at his side.

Luffy, who was crouched at the side of the road and examining a tiny black beetle that was scuttling along, chuckled and ran after them when Nami stopped to shout at him to get his ass moving.

Sanji sighed in long-suffering weariness. If he was going to be stuck with the swordsman and his damn tagalong, he might as well make the most of it.

"C'mon, pack-boy," he snapped at Zoro. "We're stopping at the spice shop first. If you need to, hold Usopp's hand so you don't get lost. Let's go."

* * *

It was about two hours and many shops later when they noticed Usopp was missing.

Sanji had been chatting with a friendly fruit stand owner – a spry old man with a beard long enough to use as a belt – and trying to ignore the two smartass annoyances at his side, when Asher made the sudden realization.

"Hey, where'd the long-nose go?"

Sanji looked around quickly, but there was no curly-haired sniper in sight – just clusters of gossiping townspeople and little kids playing in the streets.

"Did either of you see him leave? Maybe he just went to check out whatever it was he had wanted to look at earlier," Sanji suggested.

Beside him, laden down with the heavy supplies, the boxes piled high in both arms, Zoro grunted noncommittally. He was glaring down the street, making unsuspecting townspeople suddenly scurry out of his line of sight.

"If so," the swordsman replied, shrugging a casual shoulder, despite the heavy load in his arms, "we'll just meet up with him at the fountain with everyone else. If not, there's nothing we can do now. Let's finish this up. I'm bored."

Sanji nodded, squinting against the sun as he scanned the street one more time.

"Alright. We're almost done, anyway; I just have one more stop. Asher, is there a baker in town?"

Asher, who had been making obnoxious remarks every time Sanji purchased something, whether it was dried basil or a crate of local fruit, nodded and pointed helpfully (for once) down the street.

"It's the little blue building. The one with the white windows."

Sanji nodded in satisfaction. "Thanks. Let's go, then. I need to pick up some flour."

Actually, Sanji still had a pretty good stock of flour left. He just wanted something heavy to add to Zoro's stack of supplies.

As he reached the blue bakery, he slipped casually through the friendly-looking front door and instantly appreciated the warm, sweet-smelling atmosphere. Brightly colored pastries lined a counter spanning across three of the walls, and in the back Sanji could see an enormous oven, no doubt filled with a myriad of baking sugary delights.

And, best of all, the counter was being tended to by a lovely blonde beauty who was eyeing Sanji with obvious interest.

He knew coming to the bakery was a good idea.

"May I help you, sir?" the blonde smiled warmly, her cheeks rosy and her wrists delicate. Sanji immediately smiled his most charming, irresistible smile.

"Though I hate to trouble a beautiful rose like yourself, I was wondering if this lovely shop sold flour? And if not, if you could direct me to the lucky seller you purchase your flour from?"

The blonde giggled, a lovely, trilling laughter that pulled on Sanji's smile.

"Of course, sir, we do sell flour and other baking supplies. Is that all you want, or can I get you something else?"

Sanji glanced at a small, ornate clock on the wall. Twenty minutes before they were supposed to meet up at the fountain. He had time.

Leaning smoothly against the counter and forgetting his two waiting annoyances outside, he smiled up into the girl's sparkling blue eyes.

"Would you care to grace me with your charming company for a cup of coffee? If you can spare the time, of course."

The blonde smiled back just as eagerly.

"Let me put the pot on."

* * *

Zoro looked up the street.

He looked down it.

He looked at the kid beside him.

Asher looked back brightly.

"The bakery's that way," the kid said helpfully, pointing in the opposite direction Zoro was facing.

"I knew that," Zoro muttered, then adjusted the towering boxes in his left arm and started back down the street. Asher followed happily beside him.

After a moment, the young teen spoke again.

"Now, turn left and down and go down this street for a few blocks."

Wordlessly, Zoro turned down the indicated street.

A few blocks later, Asher instructed, "Now a right, on this street."

Zoro turned right.

Stupid bakery. How hard could a white building with blue windows be to find, anyway?

* * *

"Luffy, for goodness sake, don't put that in your mouth! Can't you see it's not even edible? It's a doggie chew toy – not real! God, you are so embarrassing."

"But Nami…it tastes like meat! And I'm hungry…"

"You're always hungry. Now which skirt do you think looks better – the blue one or the green one?"

"They're the same skirt, so they look the same. Can we go get food?"

"In fifteen minutes. And they're not the same; can't you see they're different colors? Never mind, I don't know why I asked you. Chopper, what do you think?

"…Chopper? Luffy, where did Chopper go?"

"Hmm? Oh, I thought he was over there talking to those seagulls. Guess not. Can we go get food?"

"Idiot! This could be serious!"

"Ow…Nami, you hit too hard."

"Just be quiet for a minute. We need to find Chopper."

"…Hey Nami, where's Franky?"

* * *

BANG.

A bullet unexpectedly lodged itself in a building wall, directly in front of Zoro's face.

Zoro blinked, then turned and glared at the annoying asshole responsible.

He found himself, along with a considerably startled Asher, surrounded by at least thirty men, each with a gun leveled directly at him.

This was going to be a nuisance.

"That was a warning shot, Roronoa," the thug in front – a tall, weedy man with stringy grey hair – warned, with what he probably thought to be a menacing glower. "Put the boxes down, surrender your swords and come quietly, and we'll let you live. Our boss wants a word with you. The boy with you can go."

Zoro shifted his load, so all the boxes were balanced with one arm, freeing the other. He glanced down at Asher, who looked like he had suddenly decided to try his hand at being a ghost – he was certainly pale enough, at any rate.

"Kid," he said, and Asher's scared eyes darted up to his calm ones. "Leave."

That brought a little color back to the boy's cheeks. "No way! I'll fight with you! You're not gonna surrender, right?"

"Roronoa, this is your last chance. Drop your weapons."

Zoro blew a frustrated breath.

"Kid," he said again. "Out."

Asher shook his head in stubborn determination.

Zoro glared. Asher glared back.

With a sigh of annoyance, Zoro rolled his eyes and turned his glare to the lead thug. Slowly, casually, his free arm drew out Sandai Kitetsu. He adjusted the boxes in his other arm. If nothing else, this would be good training.

Kitetsu glinted evilly as he pointed it directly at the thug in front, light chasing all the way down the length of the sword then flickering off the tip.

"Well?" he growled impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Let's get this over with."

* * *

Luffy looked around.

Nami was gone.

Did this mean he could still get food?


	8. Miser

Elise was a charming girl.

Bright blue eyes, pale blond hair, a flirtatious smile and ready, gurgling laughter, along with a willing acceptance of Sanji's compliments and flattery, without seeming to think the flirting was anything other than what it was – a brief, light, enjoyable flirt to pass the time - made her an ideal companion to share a cup of coffee with.

It was a shame it had to be interrupted so soon and in such a rude manner.

Sanji had just been tucking a rogue curl behind her ear as she sipped at her drink and twinkled her eyes at him above the rim of her cup, when the bakery door was thrown open on its hinges with a window-shaking bang.

Elise jumped, splattering the white tablecloth with a swish of dark liquid from her cup, her previously flirtatious eyes now wide and flitting about like a timid bird.

"Blackleg Sanji." The voice was gruff, deep, and vaguely familiar.

Sanji turned, an irritated glare already taking over his face.

Slade. The burly, deep-voiced thug from the cliff. A gun in his hands, and about fifteen similarly armed men spread outside on the street – Sanji recognized a number of them from the scuffle on the cliffs. And no marimo or annoying tagalong kid in sight (no doubt both lost, the idiots).

Shit.

Before the thought was even finished, a cigarette was between his lips and lit, and Sanji was tilting back in his chair, giving the intruder a deliberate, unperturbed glance through the fall of his hair.

"Nice to see you again," he said easily.

The muscled thug's eyebrow twitched irritably at the reminder of their former meeting (which had mainly consisted of Slade getting his ass kicked), and Sanji didn't bother to suppress his grin.

"Step outside," Slade growled, gesturing roughly out the door with his gun.

"And if I don't want to? I was enjoying a cup of coffee with the lady." The lady who currently looked positively terrified, frozen in her chair.

Damn it. If Sanji hadn't already been planning on kicking the bastard's ass, he definitely would now. No one got away with frightening a woman in Sanji's presence.

The man leveled the gun at Elise pointedly and repeated, "Outside."

That _bastard_.

A tiny murmur of fear passed between Elise's lips. Sanji's knuckles were white with anger as he stood, though he kept his movements smooth and unhurried. He bowed slightly to the lady, his usual charming smile painted lightly on his face.

"Thank you for the pleasure of your captivating company. Please excuse me for leaving so early, and for causing such a disgusting specimen to come into your lovely presence."

Elisa gave him a pale, anxious attempt of a smile and a nod.

Then Sanji's measured, purposeful stride was carrying him out of the cheerful bakery, past the aforementioned disgusting specimen and under the bright, indifferent sun, where at least fifteen guns were immediately trained directly on his chest.

He blew a stream of smoke into the outside air; the dirt road crunched beneath his shoes as he stopped in the center of the semi-circle of thugs. Slade shut the door behind him.

One member of the ranks – the asshole that had sneaked up behind him on the cliffs – stepped forward warily, a pair of leg shackles in his hands. It seemed they had learned their lesson.

Sanji smirked.

Slade spoke, standing behind Sanji and digging the barrel of his gun into his back. "Put your hands behind your head while he restrains your legs. Don't even think of trying anything, Blackleg," he grunted.

Sanji's cigarette rolled casually around between his fingers.

Those poor, deluded bastards. They seemed to think he intended to comply and go with them easily.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

Nami was _not_ happy.

One minute she had been striding down the street at Luffy's side, looking for their lost crew members (and keeping a firm eye on her captain to make sure he didn't dart off in sudden pursuit of meat), the next she had been snatched away, dropping all her shopping bags, and roughly dragged into a nearby alley.

She had fought back fiercely, until the gun shoved in her face persuaded her otherwise.

Now, coarse rope dug into the soft skin of her wrists, chaffing and irritating, as she was rudely shoved stumbling forward down a small, bright street, the opposite direction she had been traveling before.

Her captors – two smelly men that she had no doubt belonged in Miser's gang – were making no attempt to hide themselves or her from the frightened townspeople they passed. Clearly, they knew no one would dare – or have the motivation – to question or stand against them. And as Luffy was blissfully unaware of her current capture, it seemed unlikely she would be escaping any time soon.

One thing was for sure: as soon as she got out of this mess, _someone_ was going to pay.

When a particularly vicious prompting shove at her shoulder almost sent her to her knees, she twisted around to glare at the jerk to blame.

"Watch it!"

The man – no, boy; he probably wasn't any older than she was – leered down at her with a disgusting sneer.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, sweetheart?"

Oh, gross. Nami glared and suppressed a violent shudder.

The boy's partner, an older man with cold grey eyes, placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and turned his chilly, impassive gaze on her.

"Walk," was all he said, but the ice in his eyes caused her to obey without further protest, though it didn't stop her from fuming silently.

Oh yes; someone was going to _pay_.

With no further incident, they shortly reached a small, dark shop startling close to the center of town – Nami could actually see the fountain from there – and she was quickly thrust staggering inside. She landed hard on a dirty stone floor, her bound hands unable to stop her and her shoulder taking the worst of the fall.

"Ow!" she yelled accusingly, but her captors had already shut the door, leaving her alone inside.

"Nami?"

Or not alone.

She looked up. A tiny, dimly lit room with the only window shuttered up tightly…a single door, other than the one she had unwillingly entered, no doubt locked…a table, covered with nothing but dust and dirty plates…and Chopper and Usopp, both bound and looking slightly worse for the wear.

Chopper in particular was looking especially unwell, and Nami realized his hands were cuffed with seastone.

No wonder he looked sick.

"Are you alright, Nami?" Usopp asked her in obvious concern, but she wasn't in the mood for concern.

"No, I'm not alright," she snapped, pushing herself up onto her knees, and then her feet. "Miser wasn't supposed to be this sneaky and go after us one by one! What was he thinking?"

"Well, it's a good plan, if you think about it…" Usopp began.

"It's not a good thing for us, you idiot!"

"It'll be okay," Chopper spoke up weakly from the floor. "Luffy is strong, and he's surprisingly hard to sneak up on. And it doesn't seem like anyone else has been captured yet…it'll be okay."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be fine," Nami said crossly. "But they made me drop all my new clothes! They'll have to pay for that! Plus interest for taking up shopping time! Now," she switched her attention to the more immediate problem, "have you guys looked around the room? Is there a way out?"

Usopp shook his head unhappily. "No…both doors are locked, and there are guards in the front and back. And they took away my satchel with all my weapons. We're stuck until Luffy or someone else comes to get us."

What a pain. Nami paced angrily back and forth, mentally griping. If only they hadn't caught her by surprise! She could have easily taken them out with her clima-tact, no question.

Wait…her clima-tact!

"Usopp," she said excitedly. "I've still got the clima-tact! I can't get to it, but you can!"

Usopp had already perked up and was by her side, though he had a slightly incredulous expression on his face as he took in her outfit – a short skirt, sandals, and a fitted tee-shirt.

"Um…Nami? Where…do you keep it?"

Nami grinned at him evilly.

"Let's just say, when we get out of this, you're going to owe me at least 3,000 beli."

* * *

"This is the last time I'll warn you, Roronoa. Put your sword down."

Asher glanced anxiously up at the pirate next to him. Despite his previous, unshakable determination to fight by Roronoa's side (and possibly die – as much as he admired the pirate, thirty guns against one sword weren't very good odds in anyone's book), Asher couldn't help but think he had made a mistake. He didn't _actually_ _want_ to die…

But then, abandoning his idol was out of the question as well.

"Not happening," Roronoa grinned at the thug, a cool, frightening smirk. "Are you gonna fight me, or what? I don't have all day."

"Alright, if that's the way you want it," Miser's thug said, then he nodded to the man on his right. "Shoot for a nonfatal wound; Miser wants him alive. Oh, and try not to hit the kid, if possible."

Inevitable fear raced up his spine, his breath coming in fast, adrenaline-laced pants now, but before Asher even had time to fully grasp what was happening, the underling had pulled the trigger.

_Bang!_

"NO!"

_Swish, clang!_

"Aaaarghhh!"

Asher's jackrabbit of a heart threatened to kill him of an early heart attack, but his brain had already grasped the important information – that Roronoa was alive, had blocked the bullet easily with his sword and sent it into the shoulder of one of the gang members, and that Asher didn't have any unnatural holes in his own body. Always a good thing, that.

Considerably shaken, Asher glanced up at the swordsman and saw his smirk had become positively demonic.

"Is that it?" Roronoa cocked an eyebrow, somehow looking both bored and playfully taunting.

The lead thug frowned then nodded to his underling again. The trigger was pulled once more.

_Bang!_

_Swish, clang!_

"Mmngh."

Another thug dropped, this one clutching his stomach.

Asher wondered if he could die from pure adrenaline overdose and if Roronoa could tell how much he was trembling.

_Bang! Bang!_

_Swish, clang! Swish, clang!_

"Uuuuh…"

"Gaaaaah!"

This time, two guns had gone off at once, two bullets sent back into the gang's ranks.

Then silence, save for the pounding of Asher's heart in his throat.

"This is getting boring," Roronoa said lazily. "Let's finish it."

And before Asher could blink, the pirate had lunged forward and was in the middle of the thugs, boxes still balanced perfectly in one arm as he danced with his sword in his other, and Asher's dream of watching the swordsman fight finally came true.

It was even better than he had imagined it would be.

There was an intensity, a breath-stopping mixture of raw power and refined skill that Asher couldn't have imagined without ever seeing with his own eyes – and that was with only one sword and his other arm weighed down with supplies.

In a word, it was _awesome_, and he couldn't wait to see Roronoa fight all-out.

Because it was painfully obvious that he wasn't – going all-out, that was. Even to Asher's inexperienced eye, he could tell Miser's men couldn't fight worth shit. No doubt they had relied entirely on a sneaky plan and a large number of firearms; once the fight was too close for their guns to be effective, they were pretty much hosed.

Heh heh…idiots.

Didn't they know this was the infamous Strawhat crew they were taking on?

* * *

Sanji was about five seconds away from getting his legs shackled and therefore rendered useless, but that was fine – he only needed one second to snap his leg back into Slade's dirty mouth, and another two to pivot around and send a bone-crunching kick to the chest of the thug with the shackles. Two seconds more to reach back, grab the still falling Slade, then whip him around in front of himself to serve as a human shield, and Sanji was good to go.

Not a second too soon, either, as it was at that moment that the rest of the thugs' brains caught up with situation, and they opened fire.

"Stop, you idiots, stop!" Slade tried to yell, but with his mouth full of broken teeth, all that came out was, "Shtop, 'ou i'tsh, shtop!"

Luckily for Slade, the men seemed to understand post-kicked-in-the-mouth speech, or at least were smart enough to use their eyes and realize that shooting at one of their own was not the best idea. The bullets whizzing past Sanji and his live shield immediately stopped.

Keeping a firm hold on Slade's shoulders, who was swaying slightly and looked likely to topple if Sanji let go, the Strawhat cook peeked around his unwilling guard and grinned at the rest of the thugs.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, if everyone could please drop their weapons, I would greatly appreciate it."

The thugs shared a few hesitant glances (except for the idiot with the shackles that Sanji had kicked, who was still moaning on the ground), before one of the bolder (stupider) thugs stepped forward – one of the younger members of the gang, and clearly with something to prove.

"Or what?" he asked defiantly, challengingly. "You don't have any weapons. Whatcha gonna do? There's no way you can take us all down. If anything, you should be the one surrendering."

Sanji smirked. Obviously, this one hadn't been present to get his ass kicked on the cliffs last night.

"Did you know," Sanji said pleasantly, "that if done correctly, it only takes one kick to break someone's neck? Or shatter a femur? Now, unless you want a demonstration on little Sladey here, drop your guns."

More hesitation and uncertain glances, then the bold, young thug spoke up again.

"It's his fault for screwing up. 'Sides, Miser will have our balls if we let you go. So either let go of Slade, or we'll just take both you down."

Sanji sighed. It seemed there was no group loyalty among Miser's men.

"Ten seconds," he said.

"Huh?"

"Ten seconds. In ten seconds, you're going to wish you had put your guns down." Then Sanji flipped over Slade and launched himself towards the considerably startled thugs.

Ten seconds later, every single thug was on the ground, in various states of consciousness and pain. A good number of them had been taken out by their own men shooting wildly at the pirate in their midst, and Sanji had taken care of the rest without even breaking a sweat. It was so easy, he was almost embarrassed for them.

Sanji strolled up to Slade, who had earlier dropped to his knees after Sanji's bracing hold had been released. He was tall enough that, even on his knees, he came up to Sanji's shoulder.

Slade opened his mouth to speak as Sanji approached, no doubt to start cussing and spitting garbled threats through his shattered teeth, but Sanji shut him up with a swift, slicing kick to the jaw.

Slade fell backwards to the ground. Sanji wasn't sure if he was knocked out or not, but either way, he knew Slade wouldn't be getting back up for a while.

"That was for threatening a lady, asshole."

Now then. Time to track down a certain green-haired swordsman and his annoying sidekick.

* * *

The good people of Case Ridge had learned several important lessons over the years, each of which made life in their town much easier in general for almost everyone involved.

First: Never buy meat on Thursdays, as butcher-san did his slaughtering on Fridays.

Second: Understand and accept that the old women in town would always gossip about anyone whose life was more interesting than theirs – or in other words, everybody.

And third: When Miser and his men were in town, stay the hell out of their way.

So on that sunny day, just around noon, it was no surprise that people seemed to be avoiding the usually busy fountain at the center of town like it had a bomb strapped to it – because really, that wasn't very far from the truth. Although the reason was not an actual bomb but rather a man, the man in question did posses an extremely explosive temper and an unfortunate inclination towards destruction.

At first glance, Miser – for he was the volatile man lounging against the fountain – did not seem to be a particularly unsavory, violent person, or a person to be avoided. His greying hair was neatly trimmed and his clothes tidier and cleaner than most, and he had a sturdy, strong jaw, the sort that tended to inspire trust in others. However, at a closer look, his small, mean eyes betrayed a greedy glint, and his smile gleamed cruelly. At a closer look, his true nature was put on blatant display.

Not that it mattered, as the people of Case Ridge were only too well-acquainted with his true nature, which was why there was currently a thirty-five-foot radius of empty space around the lone man at the fountain.

But while the townspeople desperately avoided being in Miser's immediate vicinity, they found themselves – human nature being what it was – drawn by some morbid fascination to stick around, hiding at the fringes of the scene, and see what happened – despite the third and most important of their town's unofficial rules. Because when Miser was in town, interesting things tended to happen.

For a time, it seemed like the cautiously nosy townspeople wouldn't have their curiosity fulfilled. The man at the fountain just sat there, accompanied only by the ruthless smirk curling the edges of his mouth, without any indication of moving or terrorizing any unlucky townspeople. The watchers couldn't help but wonder if they'd been mistaken and nothing of interest would occur.

Then a boy came.

A stranger to their town, but a well-known stranger, one whose name and childish grin most were at least vaguely familiar with.

With an easy, carefree stride he meandered towards the center fountain, seemingly oblivious to the danger waiting there. Dark, curious eyes examined his surroundings; a worn straw hat hung from his neck. His faded red vest hung open, shamelessly revealing his sun-tanned torso, and his sandals slapped against the soft dirt of the street.

When Miser's smirk widened at the boy's approach, the townspeople watching knew something interesting was about to happen – for better or worse, but most likely for worse.

"Strawhat Luffy!" the gruff, commanding voice called out, the voice they were unfortunately so familiar with.

The boy's head swung around and he met Miser's eyes with relaxed surprise and a happy smile.

"Yep! That's me," the boy answered, and those watching were horrified at his apparent unconcern of whom he was speaking with. "Who're you?"

"My name is Miser."

The change that came over the boy was shocking, to the say the least. Gone was the innocent smile, the carefree attitude. In their place were a murderous smirk and a surprisingly dangerous aura that rolled off the boy in subtle but undeniable waves. As he cracked his knuckles and grinned in fiendish delight, the townspeople started to get an inkling of how the young teen before them could warrant a staggering 300 million beli bounty.

"You're Miser?" he asked. "You're the guy who tried to hurt my nakama?"

When the man nodded confidently, smugly, the boy let out a low chuckle.

"Oh good. I was looking for you. That was dirty trick, to try hiding in a cave like that. Good thing it didn't work, but I'm still gonna kick your ass."

Miser's smirk didn't fade a whit, if anything stretched a little wider, even as the young captain strode purposefully towards him, his fist winding up for a punch. Although, to be honest, most of the townspeople were much more concerned for the boy, who may have had a high bounty but obviously didn't understand just whom he was dealing with – Miser had been taking out bounties, even ones almost as high as the boy's, for _years_, and most likely wasn't about to get his ass handed to him by an upstart pirate who had probably survived so far by luck and a mistakenly swollen bounty.

"Speaking of your nakama, do you know where they are?"

The boy captain stopped dead in his tracks, his clenched fist dropping to his side.

"What do you mean?"

A deep, rough chuckle. "I mean, do you know where your crew is? They're not with you right now, are they? So do you know where they are?"

Young, hard eyes met an older, malicious pair.

"What have you done?" The boy's voice was low, deceptively calm, yet very, very dangerous. Townspeople began backing farther away.

"Invested in insurance." Miser raised his voice then, calling out, "Akio! Bring them out here." He turned back to the Strawhat captain. "I have something to show you that I think you'll be interested in seeing."

* * *

Sanji found Zoro and Asher surrounded by the bodies of defeated thugs, most of which he was moderately sure were still alive.

Well.

On the up side, Zoro was alive and uncaptured, so at least Sanji didn't need to save his ass, which would have been a bother. On the down side, the apparent display of the marimo's ability to swing a stick around seemed to have made the kid even more idiotically obsessed, if the crazed awe in his eyes was anything to judge by. And that was just annoying.

Sanji decided it was time to make his presence known to the two idiots.

"You better not have damaged any of that food."

The swordsman, with the precious supplies still balanced in his arm, spun around at Sanji's voice and ran a quick, casual eye over his frame.

"You look alright, then," Zoro grunted and turned away.

Sanji smirked inside. Honestly, the guy had set himself up for this one; it would've been an absolute shame not to have taken the opportunity.

"Thanks, Zoro," he drawled, taking a drag from his cigarette, and let his smirk sneak to his face. "You look pretty alright yourself." Had it not been below his dignity, Sanji might have winked at that point.

"What!" the swordsman's shoulders instantly jumped and tensed, then he scowled fiercely back at Sanji. "I didn't mean that way, you damn perverted cook! I meant you obviously didn't run into any of Miser's guys. If you had, you woulda been bleeding and shit all over the place."

"Your concern is touching, marimo," Sanji said, sarcastically sweet, "but I'm afraid your reasoning is off. They jumped me outside the bakery. The same bakery, incidentally, where you were supposed to be waiting for me outside. What happened – you get lost, or something?"

Zoro's flush and defensive, "_Shut up_," answered the question clearly enough, and Sanji grinned again.

"You got lost, didn't you? And you even had someone with you. Asher-kun, why didn't you tell him he was going the wrong the way? Or are you like the marimo and don't know north from up either?"

Asher flushed as well, but he looked hesitantly between the fuming Zoro and smirking Sanji before answering.

"I thought he was going somewhere else, so I just followed…"

Sanji couldn't help chuckling as he took another pull from his cigarette. "Don't worry, kid," he said. "The marimo consistently gets lost on his way to the _bathroom_. It wasn't your fault."

Asher, the poor kid, still looked uncertain, like he had no idea what to do in this situation, and Sanji felt no shame in the vindication he felt. After all, those two had been ganging up against him all day, and he deserved a little revenge, even if it was just getting on the swordsman's case for his usual atrocious sense of direction.

"Alright, that's enough," Zoro growled irritably, his eyebrows creased. "You wanna fight, shit-cook? 'Cause I won't even have to put these boxes down." The swordsman meaningfully drew out a sword one-handedly and pointed it at Sanji. "If I can take care of all these guys with guns, a single unarmed pansy of a cook isn't gonna be much trouble."

"Unarmed?" Sanji scoffed. "These two legs are all the weapons I'll ever need, especially to take out an overcompensating swordsman like you. And you damn well better put those boxes down, shitty marimo, 'cause if you drop that food I'll be kicking your ass into next week."

"Whatever. You just don't want to embarrass yourself by getting beaten by someone using only one arm."

"Oh yeah? Maybe should just put the food down and stop using it to hide behind like a little girl."

"And maybe you should just quit stalling and admit you don't want to fight me 'cause you know I'd beat you anyway."

Sanji could feel a grin creeping onto his face and the usual prefight excitement sneaking into his veins. Taking out Miser's goons hadn't been any sort of challenge, so if Zoro was looking for a good fight, then Sanji was more than willing to give him one. And judging from the competitive smirk on the tanned face in front of him, Zoro was just enthusiastic as he was.

All other thoughts and concerns quickly faded from his mind and probably would have stayed that way for a while, if it hadn't been for one factor Sanji had forgotten about.

"Hey, guys…? Do you think the rest of your crew got into trouble with Miser's gang?"

Zoro's eyes met with Sanji's, and the cook knew in that moment they were both thinking the same thing.

"Shit."

* * *

The door swung open; light flooded the small room. In the doorway stood one of Nami's captors, the older man with icy eyes.

"Get up. It's time to go see the boss."

* * *

_**7/1/2011 Edit:**__ Hullo. I wanted to let you all know that this story hasn't been abandoned. It is, however, on a break while my attention is busy being distracted by other projects. I'm very, very sorry for this. I promise I am still interested in this story, and it is actually not anywhere near the end yet. The fun's just starting! Er…and will be starting back up eventually._

_Thank you everyone for your patience and support! Believe me when I say it makes a big difference._


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